Forgiven
by Aria Saralyn
Summary: As Luke bends over his father's broken body, four Jedi decide to change the course of the future.
1. Of Death and Life

**Author's Note: **Hi everyone! . . . I don't really have anything else I want to say. Oh, wait, yes I do. I hope you like this story! I realize it's a fairly common plot, but I'm hoping my little twist on it will make it more unique!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Star Wars. I also do not own the TV show _Supernatural_, the book _White Oleander_, or the song _Who Knew_, as elements/quotes from these are also included throughout this stroy.

**Forgiven**

"_Our greatest glory is not in never falling, but in rising every time we fall." -- Confucius_

**Chapter One: Of Death . . . And Life**

Luke Skywalker sat bent over his father's body as the last shallow breath left Anakin's broken lungs. He tried to memorize the pale face, scarred and worn. He struggled to recall the sky-blue eyes, identical to his own, as they shone up at him full of love and peace. And as he watched, he waited. He waited for the Force to come and take his father away from him, to join him to itself for all time, as it had taken Yoda, and Obi-Wan before him.

And come the Force did, just as Luke had known it would. However, no sooner had Anakin's battered features begun to fade than they solidified again. Luke rocked back on his heels in shock, unsure of what was happening.

"He has been forgiven," a voice Luke knew well said from behind him.

Luke whirled around. "Ben!"

Obi-Wan smiled. "Good evening, Luke."

"Ben, what's going on? He renounced the Dark Side; why is the Force rejecting him?"

"The Force is not rejecting him. In fact, it is fighting tooth and nail to bring him into oneness with itself. I've often thought that if the Force could play favourites, Anakin would come out on top every time."

"Stop going philosophical on the boy, Obi-Wan, and answer his question. And who says the Force doesn't play favourites?"

It was only then that Luke noticed the three other beings standing with Obi-Wan. He recognized Yoda, but the other two were humans he couldn't place. The man who had spoken had shoulder-length brown hair that was generously streaked with gray and sparkling blue eyes that never left Luke's. "I'm Qui-Gon Jinn," he introduced himself. "I'm the one who found your father when he was a child, and saw in him the potential for a great Jedi and an even greater man."

The other human gave him an amused look. "That's very poetic of you, Qui-Gon." He turned back to Luke. "I'm Nejaa Halcyon. Anakin's a friend of mine."

"Nice to meet you," Luke replied, feeling extremely confused.

"Time on our side is not," Yoda interjected sternly, glaring up at the three taller Jedi. "Continue with our objective, you will."

"Yes, Master Yoda," they chorused obediently, sounding like reprimanded children. Obi-Wan addressed Luke again.

"Get Anakin out of here. Go to the _Executor_ and have them take you to the Rebel Base. Admiral Piett is a reasonable man, and very loyal to your father. He will help you. We will meet you there."

Luke opened his mouth to ask what exactly they were planning, but the four Jedi were already gone.

He looked down at Anakin's prone form. "I guess I'm just going to have to trust that they know what their doing," Luke muttered, and set to work getting his father's body aboard one of the Imperial vessels.

* * *

"Admiral, a ship has exited the Death Star. The pilot will not speak to anyone but you." 

Piett frowned. That was unusual. Most pilots didn't even know the name of the admiral they served under, much less spoke to them.

"Hold your fire," he snapped at his crew, then stalked out of earshot to take the call. "Piett here."

"Admiral! Finally. This is Luke Skywalker, Admiral. I have Lord Vader on board. Repeat, I have Darth Vader on board. He's – ah, injured. Requesting permission to dock."

_Luke Skywalker?_ "Permission granted. Use Lord Vader's personal landing pad."

"Where exactly – oh, never mind, I see it. Thanks, Admiral."

"I will meet you there, Skywalker. We have much to discuss. Piett out."

Piett turned the comlink off, already heading toward Vader's private docking bay.

* * *

Luke guided the ship into the _Executor_. There was only one other being in sight. He assumed that this was the admiral. 

No sooner had Luke touched down and lowered the boarding ramp than Piett was on board. "Even injured, I can't believe Lord Vader even let you in the cockpit. His passion for being at the controls of a ship is legendary." Piett looked around. "Speaking of my lord, where is he, Skywalker?"

Luke swallowed nervously. Somehow he didn't think Piett would believe Anakin was merely unconscious. "In the back."

Piett turned and strode in the indicated direction. When he reached the hold where Anakin's body lay, he froze.

Luke hadn't bothered to replace the mask. The sight of Anakin's pale, scarred face had no doubt shocked the admiral. Only the black suit and the mask lying next to him related that man on the floor to the fearsome Dark Lord of the Sith.

Piett stepped forward cautiously. "My lord?" he called softly. He knelt beside his superior, his back to Luke, and felt for a pulse.

When he stood again and turned, Luke found himself staring down a blaster.

"Have a seat, Skywalker," Piett ordered in a hard voice, gesturing him into the hold.

Remembering that neither he nor his father had a lightsaber at the moment that he could arm himself with, and that he wanted Piett's help, Luke thought it best to do as he was told. He edged around the doorway and slid down the wall. Piett's pistol never moved from its target between Luke's eyes.

"There is a great deal of distance between _injured_ and _dead_, Skywalker." Piett's eyes were cold. "Care to explain?"

Luke gulped. "I – I don't really know where to begin . . ."

"Try the beginning," Piett suggested flatly.

Luke struggled to collect his thoughts. Where was the beginning? "Well, I guess it all started about a year ago at Bespin . . ."

As Luke told his story, he noted that Piett was an excellent listener. The admiral never interrupted. If he ever wanted more details or was shocked at what Luke told him, he didn't express it. He merely listened passively.

When Luke finished, Piett holstered his blaster and sat down in front of him. "Let me get this straight," he said carefully. "Vader is your father, the Emperor is dead, and a bunch of dead Jedi want me to take you to the Rebel Base?"

Luke nearly winced. When he put it like that . . . "Yeah. I was just going to head to Base myself, but this ship is a little short on hyperspace capabilities."

"Indeed." Piett stared at Luke for several seconds, then took out his comlink. "Alright. What are the coordinates?"

* * *

After they had safely entered hyperspace, Piett showed Luke to his father's personal rooms. Luke commented on the deserted corridors as they walked. 

"There is nothing around here that the crew needs to deal with, so they just don't come here," Piett explained. "This is Lord Vader's intensely private domain, after all. He might misinterpret their intentions, and – well, let's just say that nobody wants Lord Vader to misinterpret anything."

Luke smiled weakly.

"Here we are." Piett stopped. "It's that door." He pointed.

"You're not coming?"

Piett gave him a look. "No."

There was little in the room. A hyperbaric chamber took up most of the space. Luke opened it, hoping there was something slightly more personal than Imperial datapads inside.

Other than some machines and a supply of syringes containing vitamin and mineral supplements, the only thing of any interest was an extra lightsaber. He took it with him when he left. It was red, but it would have to do until he could build another one.

"Find anything?" Piett asked as he reemerged.

"Only this." He held up the lightsaber.

Piett sensed his disappointment. "You'll have to check his residences. He likely kept his more personal possessions there."

Luke looked at him curiously. "Where did he live?"

"I believed he has a place on Imperial Center, but whenever he took leave he went to Vjun."

Piett's comlink beeped. He activated it. "Piett here."

"Admiral, we are ready to revert to realspace."

"Thank you, Captain. Go ahead." He switched the unit off.

Luke was struck with a thought. "Hey, can I borrow that? I should probably let my sister know I'm okay."

Piett stared at him.

Luke smiled innocently. "Oh, did I forget to mention that I have a twin sister?"

The admiral shook his head in disbelief and handed the comlink over.

* * *

"Luke!" Leia shrieked. "You're alright! Well, I knew you were, I could feel it, but – We got it, Luke! The Death Star's gone! We're celebrating right now – where are you, Luke? You should be here." 

Luke told her the whole story.

Leia sighed, her exuberance gone. "Luke, if he's dead --"

"Hey, I'm just following orders!"

"From dead people! And the _Executor_, oh Luke . . ."

"Look, can you just call Mon Mothma for me so she doesn't blast us all on sight? She'll listen to you. Tell her it'll only be me, Father and Piett to land. The crew will stay in orbit."

Leia sighed. "Alright. And I'll go round up Han and Chewie. We'll be there in an hour or so."

"Great. Thanks, Leia."

She smiled. "What are sisters for?"

* * *

Mon Mothma herself met them on the landing pad. She had had the foresight to bring an anti-grav stretcher from the medical bay, for which Luke was grateful. It would make getting Anakin off the ship that much easier. 

Soon the four of them were settled in the medical bay. An MD droid bustled up and bent over Anakin. After a few moments, it straightened. "Apologies, but this man is dead. There is nothing we can do for him."

"I know," Luke replied, "But can you get him out of that suit? And take off the mechanical hand?"

"The ruined one or the whole one?" the droid asked.

The three living humans blinked. "What?" Luke asked intelligently.

"Both arms are mechanical," the droid repeated. "From the elbow down. And both legs from just above the knee down. He also has an artificial lung, and several other organs have been patched up with mechanics."

Mon Mothma looked horrified; Piett was shocked. Luke didn't know what he felt. "Take off all the limbs, but leave the other stuff, I guess."

Leia, Han and Chewbacca arrived soon after the last prosthesis had been removed. All three of them stopped dead in their tracks when they saw the wreck of a man on the operating table. "Luke . . . ?" Leia asked, sounding as if she wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

Luke nodded. "Yes."

Leia's hand went to her mouth and her brown eyes filled with tears of compassion. Han glanced from her to Luke. "Well? Me and Chewie aren't mind-readers, you know."

Luke chuckled mirthlessly. "Han, meet our father, the one-time Darth Vader."

Han's eyes widened. "_That's_ Darth Vader?" He edged closer, then swore as he realized the full extent of Anakin's injuries. "How in the hells could anyone survive that?"

"Anakin has always been exceptionally resilient," a voice said from beside Luke.

Luke jumped. "Ben!"

Leia was shocked out of her tears. "Where did you lot come from?!" she demanded. Han gave her a strange look.

Luke looked around. Sure enough, Yoda, Qui-Gon and Nejaa were there, too. "They're Force spirits," Luke explained. "Only those of us who are Force-sensitive can see them."

"Are you saying there's a bunch of ghosts in here?" Han asked in alarm.

"Shut up, Han!" Leia snapped. "They are introducing themselves!"

When Luke and Leia had told everyone else just who was in the room with them, Obi-Wan asked them to move slightly back from the table Anakin lay on. Then the four Jedi stood around it, concentrating.

At first, Luke wasn't sure what they were doing. He could feel them calling on the Force in waves, but wasn't sure what they were using it for.

It was Leia who noticed it first. "Look!" she gasped, pointing at Anakin's chest.

They all saw it, then. Just a tiny patch of skin at first, but spreading with increasing speed. Colour flooded into it, and it writhed grotesquely, only to settle into porcelain smoothness. Golden brown hair blossomed from his scalp, curling as it grew.

"That's impossible," Han breathed.

Obi-Wan chuckled tiredly. "I've said it before, and I'll say it again: For Anakin, the completely impossible has an uncanny way of becoming merely difficult."

Luke could only stare. _Impossible_ was one word he had stopped using tonight.

The Force spirits moved back, and Luke and Leia stepped forward hesitantly, studying their father's handsome features. "I wonder why they did that," Leia murmured. "Fixed his looks, I mean."

Luke was about to reply when he noticed something he never thought he'd see again.

Anakin Skywalker was breathing.


	2. The Waking of the Chosen One

**Chapter Two: The Waking of the Chosen One**

"You just don't want me around when Daddy Dearest wakes up," Han snapped.

Leia sighed. "I really want Pooja here to help me rebuild the Senate," she insisted. _Giving you a chance to get used to the idea of working with your enemy is just a pleasant side effect, _she dearly wanted to say, but didn't.

It had been two days since Anakin's resurrection. He was in perfect health, and had been outfitted with the best prostheses the Alliance could get their hands on. They had moved him to a spare bedroom in the base, and there he had slept for the last forty-eight hours. The MD droids estimated that he would likely wake up later today, and Leia was anxious to get Han out of the way before he did something rash – Anakin, she knew, would have enough to deal with without his daughter's angry boyfriend breathing down his neck.

And if Anakin got angry in return – well, Leia didn't really want to think about that.

Therefore, she had decided to send Han to pick up her friend Pooja Naberrie. She had met Pooja in the Senate, and they had quickly become good friends. They hadn't seen each other since the Senate was dissolved four years ago, and Leia missed her.

Han, however, was not taking kindly to this assignment.

"And leave you alone with a completely healthy Darth Vader running around? I don't _think_ so!"

"First of all, just because you are gone doesn't mean that I'll be alone. Secondly, he is not Darth Vader anymore. Luke and the Force spirits say so. And lastly, _I_ think so. Go get Pooja. You'll be back in a a couple weeks at the very least."

Han knew he'd lost. He narrowed his eyes at Leia, but she was unfazed. With a last growl of objection, he turned on his heel and marched off the prepare the _Falcon_.

Leia took a deep breath and steeled herself for facing her resurrected biological father.

* * *

Barely half an hour after Han and Chewbacca had taken off for Naboo, Luke and Leia were playing holochess when Obi-Wan Kenobi materialized in front of them. 

"Anakin is now in a natural sleep rather than a restorative coma," he announced. "It is time to wake him up."

"I thought we were going to let him wake up on his own," Luke commented.

Obi-Wan's image shivered, and suddenly he appeared to be years younger, with reddish-brown hair and a wide, boyish smile Luke had never seen before. "Do you have any idea how _fun_ it is to wake Anakin up?"

* * *

"He'll be moody for a couple of days. Dark Side detoxification, I call it," Obi-Wan warned as he, Luke and Leia stood outside Anakin's door. Mon Mothma and General Rieekan were due to join them at any moment. 

Luke frowned. "He didn't detox when he came back to the Light after destroying the Emperor."

"There is a difference between ten minutes and a lifetime. Anyone can not use the Force for ten minutes. But forever? And especially not Anakin. He _is_ the Force; it's ingrained in him. He is psychologically incapable of not using it, and I doubt the Dark Side will ever truly leave him. Even as a Jedi, he had trouble understanding _sides_. To him, it was all just the Force."

"What exactly are you saying?" Leia asked, slightly alarmed.

Obi-Wan hastened to reassure her. "Oh, don't worry, he won't be dangerous – not to you, anyway. You just may see a couple aftereffects of Vader you don't like. For example . . . the Force choke. He may use it on his enemies to prove his strength, but he won't kill them. Not in cold blood."

"Well, that's better than killing all our officers if they so much as look at him," Leia muttered, but Luke could tell she was unhappy with this revelation.

At that moment, Yoda, Qui-Gon and Nejaa showed up.

"I didn't think you were coming," Obi-Wan said.

Nejaa raised his eyebrows. "What, and miss the show?"

"Best if here we are," Yoda observed. "Young Skywalker . . . temperamental, can he be."

"To say the least," Qui-Gon murmured.

"Excuse me?" Luke questioned.

Obi-Wan waved a hand at him. "Not you – Anakin."

"Oh."

Mon Mothma and General Rieekan arrived then, and Obi-Wan took that as his cue to to enter Anakin's room while everyone else waited in the hall.

"Good _morning_, sunshine!" Obi-wan sang in the sickening, infuriatingly cheerful tone he knew drove the younger man up the wall, even though it was far from morning.

A lamp from the bedside table flew at him. He ducked it easily, more out of practice and instinct than necessity, and it continued out the door, smashing on the opposite wall of the corridor. The four Alliance members shot startled glances inside, the ones who could see Obi-Wan staring at him in shock. The other three Jedi ghosts didn't so much as bat an eyelash.

Obi-Wan closed the door and turned back to Anakin, who hadn't so much as twitched from his position on his stomach, face to the wall. Even his unruly curls hadn't stirred.

"Time to get up, my former Padawan! We're burning daylight!"

"You filthy hypocrite!" Obi-Wan, Anakin obviously recalled, enjoyed sleeping in, too. "Go away and let me sleep!"

Outside the closed door, yet still able to hear every word Anakin yelled with perfect clarity, Luke muttered, "Well, at least we know his lungs are better."

Back inside the room, Obi-Wan was feeling generous. "Fine. Five minutes."

"Fifteen."

"Ten."

"Deal."

* * *

Obi-Wan left the bedroom. "He'll be up in ten," he informed everyone. 

Mon Mothma and Rieekan left; they had other responsibilities to attend to. Luke and Leia settled on the floor to wait, the Jedi spirits standing above them.

"You call that _fun_?" Leia demanded.

Obi-Wan grinned at her. "Always."

* * *

When Anakin woke, he had no idea where he was or how he had gotten here, He only vaguely remembered his encounter with Obi-Wan mere minutes before. He pulled himself into a sitting position and groaned. By the Force, _why_ did Obi-Wan want him up as such an unholy hour? For that matter, why was _Obi-Wan_ up at such an unholy hour? Maybe the Council wanted to send them on another mission . . . 

Anakin groaned again and let himself fall back onto the pillow, pulling the covers back over his head.

Then his memory caught up with him, and he sat bolt upright again.

"OBI-WAN!"

* * *

Luke winced. That call did not sound like it boded well for Obi-Wan Kenobi. 

"Right," Leia muttered from beside him. "I've decided that now is a very good time to comm Han." She bolted, and Luke sighed. She'd been handling everything so well . . .

Obi-Wan, it seemed, wasn't the least bit concerned. "WHAT?" he roared back.

A vicious Force shove nearly removed the sliding door from its track, and Anakin Skywalker stepped into the corridor, dressed in black and magnificently furious. His eyes were still blue, though, Obi-Wan noted as they fixed on him. That was always a good thing.

"When I kill someone," Anakin snarled in a tone that sent more shivers down Luke's spine than Vader's vocalizer ever did, "I expect them to _stay dead_!"

"Oh, you've regained your memory," Obi-wan commented delightedly. "How wonderful."

"You've gone soft in your old age," Anakin growled in response, slightly more rational but no less angry.

"With age comes wisdom," Obi-Wan quipped.

Anakin made a derisive sound. "And senility! I distinctly recall you telling me that age is no measure of wisdom!"

The younger Jedi sighed in frustration, and a note of desperation crept into his voice. "Why couldn't you just let me die in peace, Obi-Wan? Why go through the trouble to bring me back? I"m only going to be executed for my crimes, anyway."

Nejaa Halcyon laughed at that. "I'd like to see someone try!"

Anakin smiled weakly at him.

Qui-Gon took over. "We've already had the issue addressed, Anakin. As far as the Alliance is concerned, Darth Vader died aboard the Death Star, and Anakin Skywalker has come out of hiding to help rebuild the Republic."

Anakin made a face. "The Republic? The old, out-dated, corrupt Republic?"

"No," Obi-Wan said firmly. "The _New _Republic. Talk to your daughter; she has some brilliant ideas."

"Also help your son, you will," Yoda added severely. "Rebuild the Jedi Order, the two of you will. A _command_ that is, young Skywalker."

Anakin stared guiltily at the floor. "Yes, Master."

Yoda nodded. "Good. Master Jinn, Master Halcyon, with me you shall come. A moment alone, Obi-Wan wishes with his Padawan."

The three Masters were nearly gone when Anakin called, "Nejaa?"

The ghost looked at him curiously. "Yes?"

Anakin grinned. "Say hello to the missus for me."

The other Jedi smiled back and gave a mock salute, then disappeared.

As Anakin and Obi-Wan stared at each other, Luke, still seated on the floor, felt very uncomfortable. This was an intensely private moment between his father and his mentor, a moment he had no right to witness. However. He could not get up and leave without drawing their attention, so he just closed his eyes and sat very still instead.

"You're all grown up, Anakin," Obi-Wan said at last, emotion causing his voice to quiver slightly.

"I prefer the term _disillusioned_, thank you," Anakin shot back, but there was no heat in it.

They were silent again.

Finally, Anakin spoke. "I'm sorry, Master." It sounded like he was fighting back tears.

"So am I," Obi-Wan replied, and somehow he must have become solid again, for in the next instant, the two men were clinging to each other, faces buried in the other's shoulders, shaking as they finally allowed themselves to mourn all they had been, and all they had lost.

Obi-Wan couldn't hold the corporeal state for long, though, and soon they were forced apart. "I have to go," Obi-wan said shakily, "but Anakin – I'm so glad you've come home again. I love you, Anakin; you're my brother. I've always loved you. I always will. And I want you to remember that. No matter what you do or what you call yourself, I love you."

Anakin nodded. "I'm not nearly so eloquent as that," he replied, tears still streaming down his face, "but I love you too, Master. You can't know how much."

A small grin danced at the corners of Obi-Wan's mouth. "Try me."

Anakin smiled sadly back. "Sorry, Master. I have no words to express it."

"You're the Master now, Anakin. Take good care of those children of yours – they get their penchant for trouble from you."

Anakin laughed and wiped his eyes. "Oh no. And there are _two_ of them!"

Obi-Wan touched his spirit-hand to the new Master's shoulder, then stepped back. "I'll be watching," he promised, and dematerialized.

Anakin stood still for several minutes, composing himself, then turned to where he knew his son was sitting.

Luke accepted Anakin's hand and found himself pulled effortlessly to his feet. "I – ah, have something of yours." He unclipped from his belt the lightsaber he had found on board the _Executor_. "Here."

Anakin took the weapon and ignited it. He swung the crimson blade experimentally, evaluating it with a practiced eye and a natural hand. "I'll need a new one, but it'll do for now." He clipped the lightsaber to his own belt, then looked into his son's bright blue eyes.

"So," he said lightly, "is the world ready for me?"

* * *

"Goodbye, nerfherder. I love you too." 

Leia switched off her comlink and rested her forehead on her clasped hands, elbows on the table. Talking to Han had made her feel better, mainly because she had argued constantly with him about the importance of escorting Pooja here, and it had driven certain other issues to the back of her mind.

She knew she'd have to face Anakin sometime. She couldn't hide in her room forever. No, she'd have to make her peace with him – and she would.

Just . . . not now.

* * *

"Tell me about your training so far," Anakin asked as he and Luke sat outside in the shade of a large tree. Each had a canteen of water, which Anakin was going easy on. He had spent over twenty years injecting any sustenance he needed; he didn't trust his stomach not to rebel against anything he asked it to digest, even if it was only water. 

"Not much to tell," Luke replied, taking a large swig. "I mostly taught myself, using stuff Ben – I mean Obi-Wan – wrote down. I did find the time I spent with Master Yoda very educational, though."

Anakin nodded. "Yes, Yoda does know what he's doing." He looked down at his hands. "I don't think he liked me too much, though."

Luke realized Anakin was trying to open up to him, trying to let him get closer, to strengthen their bond, and he determined to tread carefully. "I think," he said slowly, "that he saw in you the potential for great accomplishments and power, but also for great disasters and flaws."

"Flaws that I couldn't overcome. That I didn't want to overcome." Anakin brooded for a couple moments, then gave a small chuckle and shook his head. "Forty-six years old and I'm still _young Skywalker_!"

Luke grinned and opened his mouth to reply, but an exuberant shout cut him off.

"Uncle D! You're alive!"

Anakin bounded to his feet. "Jix!"

If Anakin was powerfully built, the man that rushed forward to greet him was downright brawny. Brown hair was held back from his face with a leather tie, and observant brown eyes peered out of a swarthy face.

"It's Anakin now, Jix," the former Sith Lord corrected his off-the-record spy/assassin/all-around go-to guy.

Crestfallen, Wrenga Jixton asked, "Does that mean I can't call you Uncle D anymore?"

He put on such a pathetic face that Anakin felt he had no choice but to relent. "You can call me whatever you like, Jix --"

"-- as long as I mean _sir_, yes, I know."

Anakin grinned and sat back down beside Luke. Jix sat down too, facing the Skywalkers.

Luke looked at Jix curiously. "Who are you?" he asked.

"I know who I am. What I don't know is – hey! I know you!"

"Good job, Jix," Anakin interrupted. "Luke, this is Jix. He's – well, I guess you could say he's my shadow. Jix, I can only hope you were just pretending not to recognize him."

"Look," Jix said defensively, "I never got to see him up close, okay?"

"Whatever you say." To his confused son, Anakin added, "Jix spent several months making sure you remained alive."

"Why?" Luke asked, glancing at Jix.

"Because I'd been demoted," Jix replied. "From assassin to babysitter."

Anakin ignored this. "Because I told him to. As for you --" He rounded on Jix. "How could you find me without that damned suit?"

Jix grinned. "I am just that good."

Anakin snorted. "Try again. The truth, this time,"

Jix glared, sighed and replied, "Piett pointed you out."

Anakin laughed.

Jix glanced at Luke. "Is it good to have him back, kid?"

Luke looked at his still-grinning father. "Yes," he answered simply, an overwhelming feeling of love and awe filling him. "It is."


	3. Recuperation

**Chapter Three: Recuperation **

"You're supposed to be _resting_," Luke insisted as his father prepared for the trip he refused to put off.

"I will rest," Anakin replied, pulling out a cloak and examining it. "When I come back."

"I --"

"Master Luke, the Princess would like to speak with you," C-3PO interrupted him as the droid and his counterpart came through the door. He saw Anakin and turned. "Oh, hello, sir, I don't believe we've – Artoo Detoo, what has gotten into you?"

The little astromech had rolled forward faster than Luke had ever seen him move before, beeping and whistling so quickly it made Luke's head spin, and stopped before Anakin, who bent down.

"Artoo Detoo," he murmured, and much to the astonishment of Luke and C-3PO, gave the little droid a hug. "I've missed you, Artoo."

The astromech cooed.

Anakin stood, his hand still trailing along the top of R2-D2's dome. "And you don't remember me, Threepio?"

"I – I – I, ah, no, sir. Should I?"

"Yes." Anakin frowned thoughtfully. "Artoo?"

The droid answered with a beep.

"Did he undergo a memory wipe, or a memory card replacement?"

A whistle.

Anakin smiled. "Good. I can fix that." He paused. "When I get back."

And with that, he swept out the door with R2-D2 at his heels, leaving a very surprised Luke in his wake.

* * *

"How is . . . um . . . _he_ doing?" Leia asked her brother. She had managed to avoid Anakin for the past couple of days. She wasn't even sure what to call him. It felt strange to use his given name, knowing of their relationship, yet she still couldn't bring herself to verbally acknowledge him as her father. That, more than anything else, told her that she was not ready to face him. 

Luke frowned at her. His relationship with Anakin had taken off splendidly – he could not relate with her on this. "Ask him yourself. He's headed down to the hangar bay."

"The hangar bay? What's he doing there?"

Luke sighed. "He's going to Bast Castle, his residence on Vjun. He wants to build a new lightsaber, and for that he needs crystals. He doesn't want to take the time to order them in, and he says he has some at Bast." He shook his head. "I tried to talk him out of it, but it was like arguing with a wall. Or with you."

Leia glared at him, them asked, "Did he at least take someone with him?"

"Artoo went after him; he'll probably take him along." He told her about Anakin's encounter with the droids.

Leia shook her head in disbelief. "What are the chances? And he said he could restore Threepio's memory? I didn't think that was possible."

"Neither did I. You'll have to ask him about it," Luke tossed over his shoulder as he left Leia's quarters.

Leia gritted her teeth, resisting the urge to throw something at him.

* * *

Anakin flattened himself against the outer wall of Bast Castle, unsure whether to be happy that his guards were doing their jobs or frustrated because without the black armour he was unrecognizable as the king of this castle, which meant that the vigilant sentries would shoot him on sight. 

Luckily for Anakin, there was more than one way to enter the fortress. If he could get to it without being detected, of course.

And, as luck would have it, the only place he could land his ship without drawing attention to himself wasn't anywhere near the hidden door he needed to find. Thank goodness for Force illusions.

_This is ridiculous,_ Anakin thought, irritated. _I'm breaking into my own home._

At least he had managed to convince R2-D2 to stay with the ship. The astromech had insisted on accompanying him on the flight, but even the oddly curious droid did not relish attempting to outwit Vader's staff.

Finally, Anakin spotted the metal ring on the ground that would open the trapdoor to a tunnel that led to the lowest level of the castle. Making sure no one would see the movement and feeling very out of place at a place he had claimed as Vader, Anakin lifted the door and slipped into the ground.

Darting silently through the hallways of Bast Castle wasn't hard, and a flick of the Force turned the attention of any maids he needed to creep past. It wasn't long before he was within his private suite of rooms.

However, even Darth Vader's dreary yet tasteful quarters needed to be cleaned.

Anakin felt the girl a split second before they saw each other. "Briar!" he hissed as her hand darted for her comlink, ready to hit the emergency button.

She froze. All her senses told her that this was not Lord Vader, yet what other stranger would know her name? She hadn't even thought he'd remember it – he had only asked for it once, when he had uncharacteristically sought her opinion on a piece of art for his study. He _had_ gone with her suggestion, but --

Briar stared uneasily at the intruder. "Yes?" she replied suspiciously.

Speaking lowly and rapidly, he recounted to her in intimate detail that day when she had chosen the painting for him.

Despite his appearance, her instincts told her he was indeed the Sith Lord she served. "My lord?"

He nodded solemnly.

"M-My lord, please forgive me, I --"

"You did what I trained you to do, Briar; do not apologize for that," he interrupted as he approached her.

She stared at him. What had gotten into him?

He grinned down at her. "Please move, Briar. I need to get to the bedroom."

Still shocked, she did as ordered, and he entered the hyperbaric bedchamber. After a moment, she moved to the doorway on watched him.

"How did you get in here?" she finally worked up the courage to ask.

"Let's just say I neglected to tell the guards about a certain entrance," he said as he moved around the room, tucking a couple cloth bags into his pockets. He paused, then picked up a final object, a lightsaber. "I think that's all I need." He looked back at her. "Are you going to let me leave undetected?"

"Are you going to come back?" Briar asked. "Nobody believes you've died, like the HoloNet is saying."

"I'll be back," Anakin replied thoughtfully, "but I think I'll comm first next time. They can't shoot me over the comm."

* * *

Luke greeted Anakin in the hangar bay. "Leia and Jix are both mad at you for taking off like that." 

Miffed, Anakin replied, "I asked Mon Mothma if I could go. She said yes. Jix is just put out because I normally send him on thefts, and Leia – well, when is Leia _not_ mad at me? I haven't even _seen_ Leia since . . . ah," he looked down, feeling extremely guilty, "Bespin."

Luke opened his mouth, but Anakin overrode him, shaking of his feelings of extreme guilt in order to put on a cheerful face for his son. "Anyway, I have enough crystals for about seven lightsabers. I need to make those, fix Threepio's memory, and build a dozen or so dueling droids. And I want to do it all before Mon Mothma decides I've had enough time to recover and throws me out into the field."

* * *

It normally took a Jedi about a month to create a lightsaber – they were very picky when it came to their blades and therefore took the time to ensure that every element was perfect. 

Anakin did not possess the patience required to spend a month on a single project. His first lightsaber had taken him two and a half weeks to construct. Now he only needed one. If pressed, he could produce a top quality weapon in as little as two days.

Luke sat on the floor, the crystals Anakin had retrieved spread out before him, arranged by colour: red, blue, green and violet. Anakin knelt on the other side of the crystals.

"All of these, except the red ones, are corusca gems," Anakin told his son. "Corusca gems do not occur in red, so the red ones are synthetic crystals. However, I've always preferred corusca gems because they are hard, meaning the blade is stronger, and because they produce precise, high quality weapons. For my style of fighting, both are extremely important. I don't like it when my lightsabers break the moment I need them most."

Luke looked up, surprised. "Lightsabers can break?"

Anakin burst into laughter, and couldn't seem to stop. Luke's cheeks reddened. How was he supposed to know something like that?

Finally, Anakin calmed down enough to reply. "Sorry. Yes, my son, lightsabers can break." He chuckled. "If only you knew how many lightsabers I've destroyed in my lifetime . . ."

He composed himself. "Alright, so we have two lightsabers already." He placed them next to the crystals.

"Your red one and . . ." Luke's eyes lit up. "Hey! That's Ben's!"

Anakin smiled. "It is indeed. Anyway, I was thinking we make one more blade of each colour, and then make training blades out of the excess blue."

"Training blades?"

"Ones that sting, perhaps burn occasionally. You can't teach or practice with anything lethal, or you'll learn to pull your swings, and that is never good."

Luke absorbed that. "It makes sense," he agreed.

His father grinned. "Then let's get started."

* * *

Working together, Anakin and Luke finished the seven blades in just shy of five weeks. The training blades were simpler to make, and required less time than the real ones, which needed extensive work. They now had six lethal lightsabers and three training blades. Surveying their handiwork, Luke was wondering where they were going to store them all when he heard a commotion in the hall. Anakin opened the door and father and son stepping out into an explosive argument between Jix and Leia. Piett, trying to calm them down – without success – looked ready to faint with relief when he saw them. 

Luke could sympathize. Despite her petite frame, Leia could be just as frightening as Vader when she was angry; Jix, who was not a small man to begin with, seemed to grow unnervingly larger and more dangerous the more furious he became.

Anakin didn't seem to notice. He spent a moment trying to decipher the problem from their unintelligible shouts, then gave up and added his own voice to the din. "SHUT UP!"

Miraculously, they listened. "Now," the Jedi Master said calmly, "who wants to tell me what happened?"

Jix got his mouth open first, much to Leia's outrage. "Me and the _Executor_ crew converted that big, _empty_ storage room into a gymnasium for you and the kid to train in," Jix explained. "We knew you were busy, and we had time to spare, so we decided to do it for you."

"The base here is becoming steadily more populated!" Leia interjected hotly, forgetting to be nervous around Anakin in her fury. "We are going to need that space!"

Anakin contemplated this. "But you do not need it yet, correct?"

Leia frowned at him. "No, but --"

"I will make you a deal, Princess," Anakin cut in. "We, and anyone else who wishes to, may use the gymnasium until the rest of the base is full. When that time comes, we will hand the space over to be used as needed, without complaint. Alright?"

It was a fair compromise, and Leia knew it. She nodded reluctantly.

"Jixton?"

The big man sighed. "Fine."

"Excellent." Anakin turned to Luke. "Find Threepio. I'll get the blades. Let's go check out this arena!"

* * *

As Threepio wandered around the storeroom-turned-gymnasium, Anakin and Luke mounted a cabinet on the wall for the lightsabers. They each chose a primary weapon; Luke the only green one, and Anakin a blue one he had built specifically for himself. Obi-Wan's blade received a place of honour, mounted at the top pf the cabinet's interior. The violet and two red lightsabers went underneath it and to the left, while the three blue training blades went on the right. They decided to seal the cabinet with the Force, so that nobody who wasn't supposed to could open it. That done, with their new weapons hanging symbolically from their belts, they went to meet Threepio. 

"You handled that scene back there really well," Luke commented. "I think you made a good impression on Leia."

"Threepio!" Anakin yelled at the protocol droid. "Come here!" As the droid bustled over, Anakin replied, "You think so? I hope you're right, Luke."

The gymnasium was big enough to house a couple of starfighters comfortably. Anakin and Luke met Threepio in the middle of it. "You called, sir?" the golden droid asked Anakin.

"I did," he replied. "I want to fix your memory now."

"I wasn't aware there was anything wrong with my memory, sir."

"I know you aren't. That's why I'm fixing it."

"But if there's nothing wrong --"

"There _is_ something wrong; you just don't know it."

"I'm sorry, sir, I – oh, I don't think you should be doing that!"

Digging through the wires at the back of Threepio's head, Anakin muttered back, "Funny, I really think I should."

Watching with interest, Luke said, "I didn't think it was possible to fix memory modifications."

"If the entire memory card was removed and replaced with a clean one, it's not. However, according to Artoo, Threepio here has only been wiped. With a wipe, the information isn't totally removed, which means that with a simple series of manipulations --" Anakin grinned mischievously, "-- it can be regained."

Sometime during Anakin's spiel, Threepio had powered down. Now, as Anakin replaced the plate that covered the back of his head, his photoreceptors brightened again.

"Recognize me now?" Anakin asked.

Threepio gasped. "Master Anakin? Oh, the Maker has returned! Oh my, I do think I am going to short-circuit!"

Luke's jaw dropped. "You're his _maker_?"

"Oh yes, Master Luke, Master Anakin built me as a child --"

"Any more surprises?" Luke asked. "Are you secretly married, or anything else I should know about?"

"Well . . . not anymore."

Luke's eyebrows shot into his hair.

"Ask Threepio," Anakin said as he caught sight of someone in the doorway.

As the droid regaled Luke with Anakin's life story, Anakin himself jogged over to Mon Mothma. "Master Skywalker," she greeted him with a smile.

Grateful that she was so comfortable around him, Anakin gave an elaborate yet elegant bow. "At you service, Commander."

She chuckled at his antics. "You have _never_ been at anyone's service but your own, Master Jedi. However, we do have a mission for you."


	4. The First Mission

**Chapter Four: The First Mission **

Han Solo was in a bad mood.

Chewie said he should be thankful they had landed safely on Naboo before the _Falcon_'s sublight engines had given out, but the pessimist in Han was on a roll. All he could think about was that he was being forced to leave Leia within the clutches of Darth Vader for another month – maybe even longer if the parts he'd ordered from a Theed dealer were backordered.

With his luck, it was a very real possibility.

Han and Chewie were staying with Leia's friend and her family. The Naberries were a happy, relaxed clan, but there was also a slight air of sadness around, especially at the end of the upstairs hallway that Han and Chewie's room was on.

He asked Pooja about it one day. "That was my aunt Padmé's room," the young Senator explained. "She was one of our greatest leaders, first as Queen, then as Senator. She died the day Palpatine declared himself Emperor; nobody knows why. Legend has it that she died of a broken heart over the loss of the Republic."

"A martyr," Han muttered, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

Pooja glared. "She was pregnant, you know. That's why we don't believe the rumours – Aunt Padmé would never have destroyed her baby. Something killed her, you an be sure about that. Something killed them both." She sighed. "Her room has stayed in perfect condition all these years. Some of the newly elected Queens like to make pilgrimages here, and on top of that it would probably kill Grandma and Grandpa to take it apart. So it stays the same."

Han never broached the subject again. He had no use for dead, pregnant Queens or murder mysteries surrounding Senators.

What he did have use for was replacement parts for his sublight engines. He had a Princess to protect.

* * *

As much as Leia wanted to believe that Anakin was a horrible human being, the stories Luke was forcing her to listen to were convincing her of just the opposite. 

". . . built Threepio to help his mother . . . Jedi prophecy about balancing the Force . . . wasn't supposed to marry, so it was secret . . ."

It had been like this all day. As soon as Rieekan and Anakin had taken off on their mission, her brother had sought Leia out, begun chattering about what Threepio had told him about their father, and hadn't stopped.

". . . gave Threepio to Mother as a wedding gift . . . her name was Padmé . . . she was a Senator like you . . ."

Leia's head snapped around to face Luke. "_What_?"

Luke blinked.

"Repeat that part about Mother."

"About Father giving Threepio to her?"

"No! Her name!"

"Padmé."

"As in Padmé _Amidala_?"

Luke nodded. "Yes; how did you know her last name? I never mentioned that."

"Luke, Padmé Amidala was one of the most influential Senators of the Old Republic! She was a friend of my – of Bail Organa's. He always spoke highly of her. When I decided to run for Senator, I incorporated many of her theses into my campaign! I – oh, Luke, I never _dreamed_ she was my _mother_!"

"Wow," Luke commented. "Sounds like she was pretty incredible."

"She was! I wonder how she ended up with _him_."

"_Father_," Luke stressed, "is a pretty incredible person, too."

"Then why did he go to the Dark Side?" Leia demanded.

Luke looked away. "That," he replied quietly, "is something Threepio doesn't know."

* * *

Anakin stared out of the viewport as the cruiser came out of hyperspace. He found the stars soothing; they reminded him that there were bigger problems than his personal crises out there. 

Yet now he couldn't help but feel that if it hadn't been for him, a lot of those bigger problems wouldn't exist.

Despite the numerous faces he presented to the universe – the strong father face, the confident Jedi face, the commanding warrior face – in his heart, he wasn't any of these things. He was untrustworthy, traitorous; he was a criminal, a murderer; and he was so very, very guilty.

The Alliance, however, insisted on trusting him, on accepting him on covering up his tracks . . . on forgiving him.

He didn't deserve it, any of it: not trust, acceptance, leniency, forgiveness, Luke, Leia, Jix, Piett, R2-D2, C-3PO . . . nothing. No one. Not after everything he had done.

He envied his son his temperament. Luke found it natural to let go of the past and move on with the future. Anakin had always clung to the past, unable to come to terms with his mistakes.

Leia, on the other hand, Anakin could understand perfectly. No matter how much she looked like Padmé, or how interested in politics she was, she was his child through and through.

_Just don't make my mistakes, _Anakin begged her silently, even though she couldn't hear him. He was confident she wouldn't. Like Padmé, Leia learned easily from the mistakes of others.

Padmé . . . he didn't miss her as much as he once did, and he felt guilty about that, too. Hadn't he vowed to love her all the days of his life?

_No_, a nasty little voice whispered in his mind. _You vowed to love her _as long as you both shall live.

Anakin shoved the voice aside. If he was learning to let go, then that was a good thing. Letting go didn't mean not loving. It meant he was moving on. That was a good thing, too.

Then why did he still feel so guilty?

General Rieekan approached him, and Anakin arranged his features into a welcoming smile. For someone who had spent half his life under a mask, he was a damn good actor.

"Master Jedi."

"General."

They watched the stars in silence for a few minutes, then Rieekan spoke again. "So, Skywalker, what do you know about diplomacy?"

Anakin grinned ruefully. "That I'm not very good at it."

Rieekan chuckled. "Don't worry; I'll do the talking." He and Anakin were on their way to draw up a treaty with the planet of Jurn.

"And I'm the poster boy? Oh, good. I can be a poster boy."

Rieekan laughed again. "Ah, yes. The Clone Wars. The Hero With No Fear and other publicity stunts."

"Indeed. The Hero With No Fear – not for myself, perhaps, but for others . . ." He trailed off, unwilling to go there.

Rieekan nodded in understanding. "It was just propaganda to make the public feel better, you know."

"I know." Anakin sighed. "That didn't relieve me of the need to live up to it, though."

* * *

Striding purposefully down the hall, Leia kept an eye out for C-3PO. She wanted to ask the droid what else he knew about Padmé Amidala. 

_My mother. _She grinned.

She turned a corner to go down another corridor --

-- only to run straight into a brick wall.

She nearly fell, but the brick wall reached out to steady her. Only then did Leia realize it wasn't a brick wall at all, but the man she had heard Anakin call Jixton.

"Careful," he cautioned, releasing her. After their argument, Leia expected to hear some variation of irritation or resentment in his tone, but there was none.

"Thank you," she replied. "I'm sorry I ran into you; I wasn't looking where I was going."

"Don't worry about it," he replied airily, brushing off her apology. "It's as much my fault as yours."

Leia smiled.

"So you're Uncle D's daughter," he continued thoughtfully, studying her. "I was blown away when I found out he had _one_ kid – finding out about you nearly gave me a heart attack."

Her smile vanished, but she waited, wondering if this little spiel was going anywhere.

"You're a lot like him, you know."

"_What_?" Leia demanded, shocked out of her silence. She was nothing like Vader – Anakin – whatever he was calling himself!

Was she?

Jix nodded wisely. "You have his passion, his stubbornness, his strength, and his temper . . . and you have his incredible leadership abilities. He's a born leader; people follow him because they know he won't let them down."

Leia frowned in disbelief at the big man. "Luke said nobody dared to even walk through his wing of the _Executor_, and now you're trying to tell me that his crew loved him?"

Jix paused. "Well . . . _love_ is a very _strong_ word . . . and just because they didn't want to take their chances doesn't mean that they didn't respect him."

She gave a snort that, coming from any other woman, would have been unladylike. "I'd respect him, too, if I woke up every morning wondering if today was the day I'd be choked to death by my commander."

He sighed. "It's not like that, Leia, it's really not. He's tough, yes, but he's fair. He's demanding, but he knows exactly what needs to be done and exactly when it needs doing; he's a strategic genius. He works hard, and he expects hard work in return. He's loyal to his people – he tries to do what's best – and he expects their loyalty to him." Jix stopped, trying to find the words to express Anakin's complicated personality. "It's not a death sentence to serve him, Leia. He only killed those who threatened to endanger the ship – or Luke. His moves are daring, and they must be carried out perfectly or they could kill everyone involved. That is why failure of any kind is intolerable; one day, failure will be fatal to more than the person who failed. He tries to prevent that." Jix tilted his head to the side, thinking. "And he knows if he'd done it himself, it would have been done right, and he gets mad because his officers aren't as competent as he is."

"That logic is so twisted I cannot tell where it begins."

Jix smiled faintly. "You know, many of Uncle D's subordinates, if given the choice, would choose to continue serving him, especially now that he's a Jedi again. I know most of what you've seen of him is his vicious side, but believe me when I say it's been a dream come true to watch him work and to be a part of that work." He clapped her lightly on the shoulder. "Girl, your daddy is my idol."

And with that, he was gone, leaving a shaken and questioning Leia in his wake.

Suddenly Luke was by her side. "Hey, Leia!" he said excitedly. "Have you seen Jix, by any chance?"

* * *

No sooner had the Juran ambassador stepped over the threshold of the conference room than Anakin decided that he despised the man. Not only was his Force presence slimier than a Hutt's, but he obviously thought the Alliance was so desperate for allies that they would be total pushovers when it came to drawing up a treaty. 

Dismissed by the Jurans as a mere bodyguard, Anakin stood back passively as Rieekan and the ambassador negotiated and drew up the treaty. With every hour that passed, the tension in Anakin's body seemed to double. By the time it came time for the signing, he had a splitting headache and couldn't remember what _relaxed_ felt like.

The ambassador smirked as Rieekan raised his pen to sign the treaty. Anakin stepped forward. "Wait."

Everyone looked at him. "I request that we be allowed to show the treaty to our other political leaders." Anakin's lips curved in a cool smile. "We _are_ a democracy, after all."

Realization dawned in Rieekan's eyes. He had lived in the Old Republic; he understood that Anakin had sensed something wrong with the treaty.

The Juran ambassador, however, sneered at him in contempt. "And who would care what the hired help have to say? Or are you a slave?"

Anakin's blade was ignited and at the Juran's throat in an instant. At Anakin's side, Rieekan could _feel_ the rage emanating from the Jedi Master.

"Like I said," he replied with deadly calm, a muscle twitching in his cheek, "we are a democracy."

"You call _this_ democratic?" the Juran demanded.

"I call it aggressive negotiations."

Despite his current position at the end of Anakin's lightsaber, the ambassador still had the nerve to look down his nose at Anakin. "Who do you think you are?" he questioned haughtily. "Darth Vader?"

There was no trace of humour or irony in the former Sith Lord's voice as he drawled, "Well . . ." His free hand rose, his fingers clenched, and the ambassador found himself unable to draw a breath. His two aides, eyes fastened on the shimmering azure blade, made no move to help.

"Master Jedi," Rieekan said, a sharp edge to his voice.

"Sorry, General," Anakin answered casually. He released the Juran and switched off his lightsaber.

Rieekan turned back to the Jurans. "Jedi Master Anakin Skywalker and I shall take our leave now," he said hastily, introducing Anakin for the first time. "Until the future, my friends." Treaty in hand, they bolted for the door in as dignified a manner as possible.

* * *

Back aboard their ship, Rieekan rounded on Anakin. "_What _was that about?" 

Anakin rolled his shoulders, trying to unknot his snarled muscles. "I _am_ sorry," he sighed, regretting his actions. _Just another thing to feel guilty about._ "But there is trouble in that treaty. I don't know what kind of trouble, but it's there and the Jurans know it's there – somehow, they managed to manipulate it in." His brow wrinkled in pain. "It gives me a migraine just _thinking_ about it."

Rieekan absorbed that. "We'll hand it over to Leia. She's good at seeing hidden problems."

Anakin gave a nod before sinking into a deep trance, trying to rid himself of the pain, tension, and guilt.

* * *

Leia wasn't quite sure how she'd gotten pulled into this project, but with Jix's enthusiasm and Luke's delight, she'd found it easier to go along than to try and back out of it. 

They were building droids. Not Leia's area of expertise, but according to Jix, these were duelling droids and needed to function for an hour at most. After that, they were scrap metal anyway.

"Do you think Father will like them?" she heard Luke ask as he and Jix put the finishing touches on the twelfth and final droid. Leia was at the lightsaber cabinet, which Luke had opened for her. Because of their lack of time and materials, these droids would wield blades that could be easily removed from their grip and placed on the next machine.

She jumped when she heard the voice that answered Luke's question. She hadn't heard anyone enter the gymnasium.

"He _loves_ them," Anakin said, a childish grin lighting up his entire face. He loped over to Luke and Jix.

With the three men otherwise occupied, Leia quietly slipped away.


	5. Nightmares and Treaties

**Chapter Five: Nightmares and Treaties**

_It was their wedding day. She was radiant in her white gown – or she would have been, had her liquid brown eyes not been filled with fear and sorrow._

_She pulled away from him, stepping back to huddle against the side of the balcony. "How could you?" she whispered, her voice hoarse and accusing. "If someone told me that three years from now you'd be gone, I would have laughed. You said we would be together forever. You lied to me, Anakin. How could you leave? How could you hurt me? How could you kill Obi-Wan? How could you torture and maim our children? How could you?"_

Anakin sat up in bed. His sheets were damp and twisted all around him, and he was covered in sweat. Her voice kept reverberating in his head.

_How could you?_

_How could you?_

_How could you?_

He untangled himself and stood on the cool floor. Grabbing a cloak from the wardrobe, he tossed it over his shoulders and strode out of his room and down the corridor, not bothering to button the cloak over his bare chest.

There was only one thing that could calm him enough to fall asleep again.

* * *

"I'm grounded, sweetheart," the holoimage of Han told Leia. "I have no idea when my parts'll be in" 

She frowned, missing him. "Keep in touch," she ordered.

Han grinned and gave a mock bow. "As your highnessness wishes."

She smiled wryly. "Goodbye, nerfherder."

"I love you."

"I love you too."

Leia shut off her comlink with a sigh, leaning back in her chair and rubbing her eyes. She should have gone to bed hours ago, but this treaty was really bothering her. As soon as Anakin ans Rieekan had arrived with it, Anakin had made a beeline for his room with a blinding headache, Luke following soon after with the same ailment. Leia now knew how they felt. The pounding in her temples hadn't even subsided during her conversation with Han.

Frustrated, Leia was about to call it quits for the night (or morning, as it were), she caught a glimpse of a shadow moving past her door, darkening the light that shone underneath it. Curious, Leia opened the door and peered out, only to see the hem of a long black cloak disappear around the corner, into the hallway that led to the gymnasium.

Anxious to get away from the treaty, Leia followed.

She arrived in the gymnasium to find Anakin engaged in a fierce battle with one of the droids she, Luke and Jix had built. The machine wielded two deep red lightsabers; Anakin had a bright blue.

Moving quietly, not wanting to distract him, Leia sat on a bench to watch, the black cloak she had seen discarded beside her.

After a minute, Leia was fully in awe. She had thought Luke's skills with a blade were impressive, but Anakin --

Anakin was _awesome_.

Leia hadn't known it was possible to move with such fluidity and speed. He was everywhere and nowhere, his blade never missing a beat, and doing everything with a grace Leia never knew existed. At times, it didn't seem like a duel so much as a dance.

Finally, the droid lay in sparking, smoking pieces. "That was _beautiful_," Leia commented with feeling, forgetting who she was talking to.

Anakin stared violently and whirled to face her. He simply stared at her for a few moments before replying, "Thank you."

"So why are you still up?" Leia asked, desperately trying to keep the conversation from descending into awkward silence.

Anakin glanced away as he used the Force to call the two red lightsabers to his hand. "I couldn't sleep." He paused. "You?"

"Treaty difficulties."

He groaned. "Don't remind me."

He waved a hand at the storage closet full of droids and one stepped out. He fastened the lightsabers to its arms, then looked back at Leia, who had remained comfortably seated on the bench.

"Aren't you going back to bed?"

"No." She gave him a small smile. "I'm going to stay and watch."

He tilted his head, studying her. Just when she started to squirm under his silent scrutiny, he asked, "Would you like to learn?"

Leia's eyes widened. "What?"

"Would you like to learn how to use a lightsaber? To be a Jedi?"

_Are you sure you are the best person to teach that? _It was her turn to stare. "Me?"

He smiled slightly. "Yes, you. You are strong in the Force, Leia. You would need training anyway. Why not start now?"

She recalled Luke saying something about her need to be trained in the Jedi arts, too. And she would have to face her relationship to Anakin sometime – she had been telling herself that for weeks. This was the perfect opportunity to do so.

"Alright," she agreed. "I think I'd like that."

A faint look of surprise entered his eyes; he hadn't expected her to accept. He disarmed the droid again, waved it back to the closet, and headed for the lightsaber cabinet. He hung up the two red blades and clipped his own to his belt, then took down two more blades. "Normally, we'd start with meditation, but it's too – ah, early for that." He handed her a lightsaber. "These are training blades. They don't cut, so we can practice without worrying about accidentally killing each other. If we use the real blades, you'll learn to pull your strikes."

She shot him a look. "Were those droids using training blades? And have they been programmed to pull their strikes if you miss?"

The blush that stained his cheeks was all the answer she needed.

He coached her through the parts of the blade, the seven forms, and a couple of basic moves before she began to yawn. Anakin called an end to the session then, with a promise to continue.

"Maybe during the day?" Leia suggested.

Anakin laughed. "I'll see what I can do."

They walked down the hall together. "May I ask you something?" Leia asked tentatively.

Anakin tensed. "You may ask, but I don't guarantee I'll answer."

Leia took a deep breath. "Do you like me?" She realized that she tended to avoid him, but the fact that he never attempted to seek her out unnerved her a bit.

Anakin stopped. "Whatever gave you the idea that I didn't?" he asked incredulously.

Leia shrugged, wishing she could take the question back. "It's just – well, you never seem to want to talk to me, or anything . . ."

He shook his head in disbelief. "Leia, when you become more in tune with the Force you will realize just how intimidating you can be. A rancor would keep a very respectful distance if you gave it the same stay-away vibes you've been giving me."

"Oh," Leia said, surprised. They resumed walking. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to --"

He smiled wryly. "Yes, you did."

She looked at the floor, embarrassed, trying to wrap her mind around that fact that Anakin – over six feet of toned muscle, more powerful than anyone else in the galaxy, once _Darth Vader_ – found _her_ intimidating. But he understood, too, she realized. He would not bring up any topics she didn't want to discuss until she decided it was time to discuss them.

"Goodnight," she said with a small smile when they reached her door.

He smiled back. "Goodnight, Leia."

* * *

Luke jogged to the gymnasium, still high on an adrenaline from the flight drill he had just completed. The only downside was that Anakin hadn't been there; he'd taken to practicing with them lately, and his reputation as a pilot had already surpassed even Luke's. Today, however, he had begged off on a previous engagement, but asked his son to meet him in the training arena. 

Anakin was right by the door, and as soon as Luke entered, he tossed him the training blade he was using and leapt out of the way, clearing a path from Luke to --

_Leia?_

He was so surprised that he was a hair too slow reacting to her attack, and she easily disarmed him.

"Luke!" she scolded as Anakin used the Force to retrieve the blade. "That was pitiful!"

"Agreed," Anakin said, handing the practice weapon to Luke again. "Try again."

"May I have an explanation first?" Luke asked as he followed his sister to the center of the arena.

"No."

"But --"

Anakin raised a brow. "A Jedi must be prepared for anything."

Luke gave him a look. "Are you sure you should be talking?"

"Hey! That was one of the very few rules I'm pretty sure I didn't break, I'll have you know! Now begin."

Leia rushed him, obviously trying to catch him off-guard agin, but he didn't make that mistake a second time. She knew a couple moves he didn't, and she was small and quick, but he was bigger and heavier, he had more experience with a lightsaber, and he was in better physical condition. He disarmed her in less than ten minutes.

"Good," Anakin said approvingly, walking toward them from the sidelines with a smile, where he had been watching. "Leia, watch your left side. You tend to leave it open. Luke . . ." Anakin sighed. "You're too used to fighting me. Leia's short; you don't have to hold your blade so high. You're only wearing yourself out more quickly, and because Leia has to reach to meet you, you're teaching her to do the same thing."

"Oh." Luke thought about that. "I guess I am."

"You are, son. There is no guessing involved."

"So how long has Father been training you, Leia?" Luke asked his sister. "And why didn't you tell me?"

"About two weeks," she replied. "And we wanted to surprise you."

"Which we accomplished quite well," Anakin added. Leia laughed.

"You should join us again tomorrow," she continued. "We meditate every second day, and I think tomorrow is _the_ day." She gave Anakin a look that dared him to contradict her.

"She hates meditating," Anakin explained to Luke with a grin, "so I've informed her that she doesn't get a lightsaber of her own until she manages to levitate something at least the size of my hand."

"I say it should be _my_ hand, since I am the one doing the levitating," Leia told her brother.

"Your hand is too small," Anakin replied. Leia wrinkled her nose at him.

Utterly amazed at how well his father and sister were getting along – and wondering how it had escaped his notice – Luke agreed to join them. He and Anakin usually sparred every day anyway; now he could really learn the ways of the Jedi.

* * *

The next day, after a successful levitation on Leia's part, Anakin presented her with one of the lightsabers from the cabinet. As she activated the purple blade in awe, Anakin spoke. 

"There is a little tradition that goes along with building – or in your case, receiving – your first lightsaber. I went through this tradition many, many times; not just when I built a blade, either. Anyway, tradition demands that I lecture you about the importance and responsibility that comes with this honour. Tradition also demands that you roll your eyes as soon as my back is turned."

Leia gave a slightly confused chuckle. "Okay."

Anakin stood ramrod straight, folded his hands into the sleeves of his cloak, and spoke in a voice and accent that sounded eerily like Obi-wan Kenobi's. "This weapon is your _life_, Leia! You mustn't _lose_ it. And _don't_ tell me you can always build another one _later_ – without your _lightsaber_, you may not _have_ a _later_!"

Luke and Leia were laughing too hard to speak. Anakin stumbled to the side, as if someone had shoved his shoulder, but a grin continued to split his face. "You haven't rolled you eyes yet," he said to Leia.

She composed herself herself enough to apologize and comply, only to break down into fits of laughter again.

Anakin looked past his twins at the glowering spirit of his former Master, and began to snicker himself.


	6. Anakin's Story

**Chapter Six: Anakin's Story**

Anakin walked into the gymnasium to find his children sparring. They had picked up the bladework with surprising ease, and he was very proud of them.

"Wrong," he said, a movement of Luke's catching his eye. He walked forward.

The twins froze. "What?" Leia asked.

"Not you, him." Anakin took the practice blade from his daughter and smacked Luke's leg with it. The boy yelped. "You'll lose a leg of you keep lunging like that. Throwing your weight behind a swing or block is fine, but what you're doing is an open invitation to your enemy to take your leg off."

Luke nodded, brow furrowed. "I see what you mean."

"Good." Anakin replaced the blades in their cabinet. "Ready to meditate?"

They groaned, but obediently followed him outside to a quiet grove of trees, where they settled on the grass.

Despite her recent success at levitation, Leia still had a difficult time with straight meditation. After struggling for a quarter of an hour, Anakin, roused by her frustration, sighed and moved to kneel behind her. He began to manipulate her pressure points, and she found herself relaxing, the Force flowing easily through her. She felt boneless when he finally sat back.

"She looks so calm and serene," she heard Luke say.

Anakin's voice was mild and curious, yet somehow also quite stern. "Are you saying you are not calm and serene when you meditate?"

He shouldn't be talking, Leia, thought. She had a suspicion that she had gotten her meditation problems from him.

She winced mentally at the reminder that he was more than her instructor, and delved deeper into herself in an attempt to get away from it. She found a channel and followed it, only to find a strong, solid wall at the end. She placed a mental hand against it, and it fell away.

_Hello, Leia,_ Anakin said into her mind.

_Ah . . . hi,_ she replied, slightly stunned. _What is this?_

_The Force bond?_

_Yes . . . I think. I mean, why is it here?_

Anakin went quiet. Luke, whom she just noticed had been listening in, gave a mental sigh of exasperation.

_It's your blood bond, _her brother told her. _Your father-daughter bond._

Leia shied away from their minds, coming back to full awareness with a jolt. Anakin's shields went back up, and he and Luke also came back to themselves. Tense once again, Leia made to get up, but Anakin stopped her.

"Wait."

She sat back down and looked at him, her gaze guarded.

"I want to tell you a story."

Luke leaned forward, elbows propped on his knees. Leia just waited.

Anakin was silent for several seconds, then began.

"This story happened a long time ago, on a planet far from this one. It is already over. Nothing can be done to change it.

"It is a story of love and loss, brotherhood and betrayal, courage and sacrifice and the death of dreams. It is a story of the blurred line between our best and our worst.

"It is the story of the end of an age.

"This is how twenty-five millennia came to a close. Corruption and treachery have crushed a thousand years of peace. This is not just the end of a republic; night is falling on civilization itself.

"This is the twilight of the Jedi.

"The end starts now."

Anakin bowed his head. Luke and Leia sat with bated breath as the minutes ticked by.

Finally, Luke couldn't take it anymore. "Father?" he asked softly.

"That's all for now," Anakin managed to reply. The twins stood and left their father to brood in peace.

* * *

"Do you think he'll tell us how he fell?" Leia asked Luke over dinner that evening. "I mean, Threepio told us what he could, but, well . . . he's a droid." 

"He doesn't understand emotions and reasons," Luke agreed. ""And he wasn't around Father all that much during that time. To answer your question – no. I don't think he's ready. Not to tell it fully, anyway. He may give us a very abstract version, but . . ." He trailed off.

Leia stabbed moodily at her meal, her thoughts a thousand parsecs away.

* * *

Pooja Naberrie glared at the man pacing restlessly around the living room of her family's home. "Will you sit down?" she snapped irritably. Normally she was fairly even-tempered, but Han Solo's cabin fever – or rather, _planet_ fever – was severely trying her patience. 

Han let himself drop into an overstuffed chair. "I just --" he began.

"-- need to save Leia from the formally-evil clutches of Darth Vader, yes, I know," Pooja finished tiredly. "But please, Captain, stop obsessing. It won't make your parts arrive any quicker."

He sighed gustily. "Sorry, Senator. And call me Han."

She smiled slightly. "Then I'm Pooja. Why don't you go find Ryoo and Chewbacca and have a look around the rest of Theed?" her sister and the Wookiee had hit it off instantly, and they went for day trips around the city all the time.

Han smiled back. "Chewie's been saying I don't know what I'm missing. I think I'll do that."

* * *

Anakin took a deep breath and began the second part of his story as Luke and Leia listened intently. 

"The dark is generous.

"Its first gift is concealment: our true faces lie in the dark beneath our skins, our true hearts remain shadowed deeper still. But the greatest concealment lies not in protecting our secret truths, but in hiding from us the truths of others.

"The dark protects us from what we dare not know.

"Its second gift is comforting illusion: the ease of gentle dreams in night's embrace, the beauty that imagination brings to what would repel in day's harsh light. But the greatest of its comfort is the illusion that the dark is temporary: that every night brings a new day. Because it is day that is temporary.

"Day is the illusion.

"Its third gift is the light itself: as days are defined by the nights that divide them, as stars are defined by the infinite black through which they wheel, the dark embraces the light, and brings it forth from the center of its own self.

"With each victory of the light, it is the dark that wins."

* * *

Anakin lay awake in bed, unable to sleep. With the full effect of his attack on the Juran ambassador having sunk in, his dream a few weeks ago about Padmé, and, more recently, Leia's rejection of him and their bond, he doubted that he would be sleeping peacefully anytime in the near future. 

Anakin sighed and rolled over. Despite the pardon and concealment of his alter ego the leaders of the Alliance had given him and the support of Luke, Jix and Piett, this whole redemption thing was a lot harder than he had imagined it would be.

Finally, Anakin gave up on sleep and headed for the gymnasium. Maybe dismantling a couple of droids would help. It usually did.

* * *

Anakin hadn't expected his story to go over so well with his children. He was just trying to give them the benefit of his experience with the Dark Side. As a blunt, straightforward man, he wasn't even sure his descriptions and explanations even made sense. 

Yet here they were, begging for more and hanging on to his every word.

_But hey, guess what, Padmé, _he thought. _I finally know what a metaphor is_.

"The dark is generous, and it is patient.

"It is the dark that seeds cruelty into justice, that drips contempt into compassion, that poisons love with grains of doubt.

"The dark can be patient, because the slightest drop of rain will cause those seeds to sprout.

"The rain will come, and the seeds will sprout, for the dark is the soil in which they grow, and it is the clouds above them, and it waits behind the star that gives them light.

"The dark's patience is infinite.

"Eventually, even stars burn out."

* * *

Han and Chewie left the dealer's shop, their arms full of parts that had finally come in. Pooja and Ryoo smiled as they exited. Han's delighted grin was infectious. 

"We're back in business, sister!" Han crowed to Pooja as they headed for the docking bay. "Pack your bags – I'll have us out of here by the end of the week!"

* * *

"The dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins. 

"It always wins because it is everywhere.

"It is in the wood that burns in your hearth, and in the kettle on the fire; it is under your chair and under your table and under the sheets on your bed. Walk in the midday sun and the dark is with you, attached to the soles of your feet.

"The brightest light casts the darkest shadow."

* * *

"We need control of Coruscant," General Rieekan commented. 

Mon Mothma sighed. "We've been saying that for years."

"But now we have an informant who very likely knows the security codes . . ." Rieekan trailed off suggestively.

Mon Mothma's eyes lit up. "Of course!" she breathed, an reached for her comlink. "Master Jedi," she said into it, "will you come to my office, please? We have another mission for you."

* * *

When Anakin left Mon Mothma's office after his briefing, he found Leia waiting for him. 

"I have a question," she said, obviously upset but trying valiantly not to show it. "It's about your story."

Leading her outside, he nodded, signaling her to continue and ask her question.

"Why?" she demanded simply, almost desperately. "Why do we fight, if the Dark Side is so generous and patient and victorious and strong and tempting? What's left for the light?"

Anakin looked at her. "What does the Alliance fight for?"

She frowned at him. "The Alliance wants to give to the poor, to be patient and just with citizens. It tempts people to join so we can be strong and defeat the Empire!"

"You're reading too much into it, Leia. Yes, the dark is generous, and it is patient, and it always wins – but in the heart of it's strength lies weakness: one lone candle is enough to hold it back.

"Love is more than a candle.

"Love can ignite the stars."

Leia stared at him. "Love? That's it?"

Anakin arched a brow. "Is love not enough?"

"Maybe . . . to a person. But it's just one thing, one emotion. It can't possibly be enough for a galaxy to rise or fall by!"

"What is love, Leia?" Anakin questioned.

She blinked. "It's . . . love. An emotion that causes us to follow our hearts, not our heads."

Rolling his eyes, Anakin steered her toward the pilots' lounge, where Rogue Squadron was relaxing. Once inside, he headed for the sabacc table, where Luke, Wedge, Wes and five other pilots were crowded.

"Anakin!" Wedge yelled in greeting. "Deal you in?"

"So I can win all your money? Much as I would enjoy that, I must decline. Give me a definition of love."

They all stared at him.

"Come on, anyone," Anakin urged. "I haven't got all day."

"An acceptance of flaws," Luke said.

"Respect," Wes added, and all the others began to chime in.

"Kindness."

"Compassion."

"Protectiveness."

"Loyalty."

"Ability to forgive."

"Excellent, thank you," Anakin said. "Enjoy your gambling."

"We will!" they chorused at his retreating back.

"You see?" Anakin asked Leia as they left the lounge. "The core of love, the _essence_ of it, is so very complicated that no one word can describe it, and no one person interprets it the same as anyone else. Love is one _word_, not one _thing._ It can hurt something vicious and it can soothe just as gently _because_ it is so complex. Everything the pilots said and more, _that_ is what the Alliance fights for, Leia. You've just been fighting for far too long to see it clearly anymore. As someone coming from the Empire to the Alliance, though, I can tell you that it is beautiful. Just . . . beautiful."

Leia gave him a brilliant smile, moved almost to tears and finally understanding. "I see now," she replied. "Thank you."

Anything for you, Leia," Anakin answered, completely serious. "Anything for you. Hey," he said suddenly, trying to lighten the mood. "Go get Luke. We'll have a lightsaber match; the two of you against me."

Leia brightened, and dashed off to retrieve her brother.

Anakin beat them soundly.


	7. The Second Mission

**Chapter Seven: The Second Mission **

Anakin strode along the bridge of the _Executor,_ as Vader had so many times before. Unlike Vader, though, Anakin was on his way to personally brief his entire crew.

The crew was the same as it had been during the _Executor's_ Imperial days. Anakin had interviewed each person, looking for anyone who might become a spy for the Empire, and also offering them all a chance to leave his service. Even knowing his former identity and reputation as Vader, everyone had decided to stay and, gently probing their minds, he found them all to be loyal to him first, the Empire second.

Anakin entered the briefing room, still unnerved by the loyalty and faith the crew had in him. All eyes fixed on him, he took a deep breath and began.

"We are going to Coruscant to make sure all the security codes we know are still in effect, and to find out any codes we don't know. This is a mission I will need all of you for. Just as there are places that are off-limits to you, there are places I cannot go without rousing suspicion. And we all know how suspicious Imperials are." A wave of laughter echoed among the crowd. "Therefore, we all need to work together on this. Admiral Piett and I will take the Palace, the Senate, and other government buildings. Go anywhere you can, but take care not to overstep or understep your station and get arrested or shot. We need everything we can get, no matter how insignificant it seems. You'll have exactly two days – make the most of it!"

* * *

Han was hot, sweaty and covered in grease, but he was in his element. Fixing the _Falcon_ was something he could do with his eyes closed; the familiarity of it was calming. 

The fact that he'd finally get to see Leia again soon helped, too. She'd mentioned training as a Jedi and said that _Vader_ was teaching her the last time they had spoken. Han trusted Leia's common sense, but had to question her wisdom on this.

In his head, of course. He wouldn't dare do so to her face. He shuddered at the very thought.

Still, it was best if he returned to Base as soon as possible. If Leia wasn't going to look out for her own well-being, he'd have to do it for her.

* * *

Anakin waved a hand at the guards by the entrance of the Palace, and they forgot he existed as he walked purposefully through the doors and headed for the military wing, where he hoped to obtain a master copy of the security codes. He knew from experience that the lists were not always up-to-date, but at least he would know every code that needed to be checked. 

What he found, after nearly two hours of searching (and, occasionally, hacking), was even better: a master code.

Anakin blinked in disbelief, wondered why he hadn't known about this, then grinned like a child left alone in a room full of sweets. He hit the recall button on his comlink, memorized the code, and headed back to the _Executor._

Piett and three other officers were already there. Slowly the rest of the crew trickled back, and once they were all safely locked aboard the_ Executor_, Anakin told them about his discovery.

"So obviously there is a change of plans," he concluded. "Try this code for anything you come across. I had to dig pretty deep for it, so I think it's legitimate, but you never know."

They split up again, this time intent on proving the master code useful.

* * *

"Leia," Luke called out. She turned to wait for him and he jogged up to her. It had been a week and a half since Anakin had talked to Leia about love, but with all the preparations taking place to turn the galaxy back into a republic, they barely had time to practice their lightsaber skills, much less sit down and have an in-depth discussion about the Force. 

"So what was that whole love thing about?" Luke inquired as he walked his sister to her next meeting.

"I asked him about the ending to his story," she explained. "He said that only love can defeat the darkness, and it seemed kind of insignificant to me, just one thing in the entire galaxy. He was helping me see it as a group of morals, rather than just an emotion." She smiled. "Did you know Mon Mothma classifies love as justice?"

Luke laughed. "Sounds like her." He paused. "So that was the end of the story? That love can defeat the dark?"

Leia nodded. "Yes."

"It's true, you know," he commented pensively. "I've seen it happen."

They parted ways then, and once again Leia had something to contemplate.

* * *

Anakin paced throughout the _Executor,_ impatiently anticipating the results of testing the master code. His instincts told all told him that it was genuine, but he knew the Alliance would want proof. 

It seemed as if everyone arrived at once. He talked to each one of them, writing down where each person tried the code and whether or not they were successful – which they all were.

He grinned foolishly. "I can't believe Palpatine was so stupid . . ." he said under his breath.

A couple officers standing near him looked over at him. Your pardon, Master Jedi?"

Anakin glanced up, triumph shining in his eyes. "Oh, it's nothing, really," he said casually. "Just that the former Emperor allowed this master code --" He waved the flimsiplast he had been writing on at them "-- to grant access to his _personal_ quarters."

The look on their faces was priceless, and Anakin's smile grew.

He snagged Piett's sleeve as the admiral walked by. "Set course for Base," he ordered. "This mission was _quite_ a success."

Piett saluted, but his smirk matched his commander's. "I would say so, sir."

* * *

Walking briskly, Anakin entered Mon Mothma's office still high on victory. 

Mon Mothma rose to her feet. "Did you get the codes?" she asked anxiously.

"Better. I found a master code that will get you anywhere, including Palpatine's own bedchamber."

Mon Mothma stared at him, eyes wide. "You're kidding."

"Afraid not. And if you go on the _Executor_, you're guaranteed to get past the Navy protection. They didn't even ask us for identification."

Mon Mothma took his information with something akin to excitement. "Skywalker, you are a blessing. Take a couple of weeks off; you've more than earned them."

Anakin bowed and left.

* * *

Han whooped and gave Chewie a high-five. "We're finished, pal! Finally!" He dashed to the Naberrie house. 

Pooja was reading when Han burst in. "Han!" she gasped. "You're filthy! Go take a shower!"

He ignored her. "We're all set, sister. Let's go! Now!"

She laughed, amused at his impatience. "It's bedtime, Han. Go take a shower and go to sleep. We'll leave first thing in the morning."

He pointed a finger at her. "I'm holding you to that," he said as he stifled a yawn, too tired to argue the issue any further. It seemed as if fatigue had just dropped onto his back all at once.

She smiled, recognizing the exhaustion and not at all surprised. He had been working himself into the ground in his hurry to get back to Leia, and despite the strain it put on him, Pooja thought it was sweet. She was glad Leia had found someone who loved her so much.

It reminded Pooja of her Aunt Padmé and Jedi Anakin. Anakin had loved Aunt Padmé so much, and she had loved him, too. Pooja had only met him once, as a young child, but her memories of him were vivid. She suspected he was the father of her aunt's unborn baby, and often wondered what had happened to him – if he had died on Coruscant as the HoloNet claimed. He had never seemed the type to be a victim of a massacre. But then, what type were massacre victims?

Shaking herself from her thoughts, she followed Han upstairs. If she had to rise with the sun, she had better get her rest.

* * *

Leia fairly skipped into lightsaber practice with her father and brother. Luke took one look at her delighted face and said, "Han's on his way, isn't he?" 

"He'll be here in an hour," Leia confirmed, beaming.

Anakin looked at Luke. "Han? As in Solo?"

Luke nodded. "That's the one." He made sure Leia was out of earshot, and lowered his voice. "I hope you can keep him from shouting too much of your past to the galaxy."

"I'm very good at preventing unpleasant scenes," Anakin assured him. "It comes from being very good at starting them." He paused. "Wait. Solo. That's the one I froze in carbonite, isn't it?"

Luke nodded again. "Yes."

"Great."

"And just so you know, he has a tendency to hold a grudge."

"Even better."

"Actually, he cherishes a grudge."

"Wonderful."

"And he's in love with Leia."

"That I knew. Oh, this is going to be fun."

Luke couldn't tell if Anakin was being sarcastic or not.


	8. Lightsabers Vs Blasters

**Chapter Eight: Lightsabers Vs. Blasters**

Pooja was the first one off the _Millennium Falcon_, and her eyes found Leia immediately. She rushed to greet her friend, only to stop in her tracks when she noticed on one of the men standing with her.

"Anakin?" she breathed. The familiarity in her voice caused Luke and Leia to give their father a confused look.

Anakin furrowed his brow as he tried to place her. After a moment, his eyes widened. "Pooja?" he replied in disbelief.

She shrieked and threw herself into his arms. "I can't believe you're alive! Where have you been? Aunt Padmé's gone, Anakin, she --"

"-- died twenty-three years ago, I know." He looked her up and down. "You've grown, Pooja. Last time I saw you, you were . . . what, four?"

She nodded. "You and Aunt Padmé came to visit."

He smiled. "We were married soon after that, you know."

"So you _were_ the baby's father! We thought so."

"Am," Anakin corrected. "I _am _their father."

Pooja gave him a strange look. "Am? Them?"

His smile grew. "Twins who are alive and well."

"I have _cousins_?" Pooja demanded, shocked but delighted.

"Luke and Leia," Anakin confirmed.

"Luke . . ." She glanced at the young man beside them; he smiled shyly at her. "And _Leia_?" She turned to stare at her friend.

"I didn't know you knew him!" Leia cried defensively. "So . . . you're my cousin?"

"Apparently."

They laughed and embraced, delighted at this revelation.

Han walked up at that moment, and halted when he saw Anakin, much the way Pooja had. _"Anakin Skywalker?"_

Anakin gave him a wary look. "Solo."

Han looked confused. "How do you know my . . ." His eyes grew large. "Oh, Sith – I mean --"

Leia interrupted. "You really didn't know, Han? Luke _Skywalker,_ Anakin _Skywalker_ . . . it's not that subtle."

Han glared. "I made _that_ connection. I just figured . . . what are the chances? There's got to be millions of Skywalkers out there."

"There is not," Anakin replied. "There's me, and Luke, and that's it. It was a name bestowed on my mother – even if we have any distant relatives, they don't go by the name Skywalker."

"Anyway, how could you miss the resemblance?" Pooja chimed in. Anakin and Luke grinned at her.

Han decided to ignore further comments. He stared hard at Anakin, who stared right back, unfazed. "I just can't believe . . ." He trailed off. "I'm old enough to vaguely recall the Clone Wars. When I was a kid, and people asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up – I'd say Anakin Skywalker."

Anakin relaxed slightly. "Really? Huh. I never thought I'd see the day."

"What, when you'd be somebody's dream profession?" Obi-Wan commented, materializing beside Anakin. "Neither did I."

Anakin smacked him on the back of the head. His hand passed through the Jedi Master, but Obi-Wan still winced in discomfort.

"Obi-Wan was being cheeky," Anakin said loftily, explaining his actions to Pooja and Han.

"_Obi-Wan Kenobi?"_ Han exclaimed.

"Okay, Han, you _met_ him," Luke told his friend.

"I did not!"

"Old Ben? Remember him?"

"The old fossil with the lightsa- -- oh."

Anakin laughed. "Old fossil? I like that! So much more original that _old man,_ don't you think, Obi-Wan?"

Obi-Wan merely rolled his eyes and disappeared.

Han was still in shock. "That was really Obi-Wan Kenobi?"

"Yes, Han," Leia said, exasperated.

* * *

"You _built_ that annoying piece of scrap metal?" Han asked Anakin later that day. "_Why?"_

"I wanted him to help my mother," Anakin explained. "My mom ws the most amazing lady I have ever met – and I've met some pretty amazing ladies. She deserved any help she could get." He tilted his head, a glint in his eye. "You know, if you really want me to, I can change Threepio's personality and make him less fussy."

Han's eyes widened. "Oh, nah, that's fine," he said hastily. "Goldenrod – he grows on you. I'd hate having to get used to him again."

Anakin leaned back in his chair and smirked.

Jix, Luke, Leia and Pooja entered and came over to sit with Anakin and Han. "Let's play Say or Do," Jix announced.

"Alright," Anakin said. He smiled. "I can't remember the last time I played this."

"Father," Luke began. "Say or do?"

"Say."

"What was the one thing you did as a Jedi that you never expected to do?"

Anakin paused, thinking. "Just one? The time I performed a marriage ceremony."

Leia stared at him. "You performed a _marriage?_"

Anakin nodded. "A pilot and a recon agent. Jedi are technically justices of the peace; we do have the legal authority." He turned to Jix. "Say or do, Jixton?"

"Say."

"Why in the _hells_ did you try to be a stormtrooper?"

Everyone stared at Jix, who shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. "It was a job. I thought I could live with it."

"You have far too many opinions to ever be a good soldier," Pooja said. She had only met Jix a couple hours before, but already she knew enough about him to know that much.

"Which is why I prefer to work for Uncle D here. He lets me express them. Leia – say or do?"

"Say."

"Are you sleeping with Solo here?"

Leia turned bright red; Han's jaw dropped. Pooja's eyes widened and Anakin and Luke yelped in unison, "I don't need to know that!"

"Han," Luke said hurriedly, before Jix could get his mouth open again. "Say or do?"

"Do," Han said, trying to move away from awkward questions. However, he wasn't entirely sure he like that sparkle in the kid's eye.

"Let Father fly the _Falcon_."

* * *

Anyone who thought Han was a crazy, daring pilot had obviously never flown with Anakin Skywalker. Five minutes into the flight, Han was firmly convinced that even if they made it out of this alive, his ship would not. With Anakin piloting and Luke in the copilot's chair, Han had nothing to do but try to convince Anakin not to kill them all. 

"Don't go through there! We won't fit!"

"I'll get through. Force, Solo, you sound like Obi-Wan."

Han was silent for all of five seconds. "You're going to kill us!"

"No, I'm not."

"You're going to crash my ship!"

"Your ship will be fine."

"Stop lying to me!"

Anakin sighed. "Solo, I started Podracing when I was six – no human, of any age, is supposed to be able to Podrace. I won the Boonta Eve Classic when I was nine; that's one of the most vicious Podraces ever. You say you remember the Clone Wars – do you recall when I landed half a ship that wasn't built to land at all in the first place, while keeping everyone on board alive?"

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?!"

"You landed _half_ a ship?" Luke asked interestedly as the _Falcon_ passed between two trees with centimeters to spare.

R2-D2 rolledforward, whistling.

"Artoo says he recorded it," Anakin translated. "Play it, Artoo."

The droid's holoprojector switched on.

"_Can you fly a cruiser like this?" Obi-Wan asked. _

"You mean, do I know how to land what's left of this thing?" Anakin replied, sitting in the pilot's chair as the ship rocked.

"_Well?" Obi-Wan demanded.  
_

_Anakin gave him a look. "Under the circumstances, I'd say the ability to pilot this thing is irrelevant. Strap yourselves in." His fingers danced over the controls. _

Obi-Wan and Palpatine followed his instructions.

Anakin and Obi-Wan had a short, technical exchange, and then there was a loud, grating sound as metal pulled and broke.

"We lost something," Anakin said.

"_Not to worry," Obi-Wan said as if commenting on the weather. "We're still flying _half_ a ship." _

Anakin and Obi-Wan attempted to deal with various problems, mostly heat and speed. Finally, they crashed.

_Picking himself up, Obi-Wan declared, "Another happy landing."_

Han groaned as if in pain. "That is _not_ reassuring!"

* * *

When Anakin, grinning foolishly with delight, finally exhausted his repertoire of exceedingly dangerous twists and turns, Han went weak with relief. For the first time ever, Han was the first person off the _Falcon._

"Never again," he informed the Skywalkers.

Anakin gave him a look of disappointment. "But it was so much fun!" he protested.

Han gave him a dirty look. "Then get your own ship! You're not going anywhere near mine again. Are you trying to get back at me for all the grief I gave you when you were Vader, or something?"

The mirth in Anakin's eyes disappeared; he set his jaw and strode away without a word or a backwards glance.

Han stared after him. "What'd I say?" he asked Luke.

The young Jedi's face was carefully expressionless. "You called him Vader."

"I wasn't _serious,_" Han protested. "Can't he take a joke?"

"His sense of humour is better than yours, but Vader is not a joke, Han. He's a demon that still haunts Father, and always will."

"I thought he was over the whole Vader thing," Han objected, surprised. "He acts like like he is, all cheerful and hyper and Jedi-ish. And the higher-ups have all killed and buried it."

"He has been pardoned and forgiven by the Alliance, yes, but he still feels terrible about Vader. He hides it well, but I've woken up in the middle of the night because his nightmares are so strong they get through his shields. They're about the things he did as Vader – like try to kill my mother." Han's eyes widened, but Luke continued ruthlessly. "Have you noticed the way he looks at you sometimes? He's waiting for you to bring up the whole carbon freezing thing. He's been walking on eggshells around Leia ever since he woke from his restorative coma. The only person he feels truly comfortable around, I think, is Jix, because Jix is the only person he feels accepts him as himself – not wholly good, not wholly evil, but filled with shades of both. Jix isn't a Rebel or an Imperial; he doesn't pressure Father to be one or the other. I've tried to do the same, but I'm a Jedi and I'm his son, so he feels the need to live up to what he thinks my ideals are."

Luke paused in his impassioned speech to breathe. "So to answer your question, Han, no, he is not over it. We have forgiven him, but he has yet to forgive himself."

* * *

Anakin walked into Mon Mothma's office. "You wanted to see me?" 

Mon Mothma smiled at him. "Master Jedi. I trust you had a relaxing couple weeks?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Good. Intelligence has just come our way that requires immediate action. Given the experience you gained during the Clone Wars, it seems to be right up your alley; therefore, we want you to lead it."

She paused. "You'll be given a team of five plus yourself, to deploy as you see fit. The Alliance has only one stipulation."

Anakin's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Continue."

"We would like your team to include Han Solo, Leia Organa, and your son, Luke Skywalker."


	9. Plans and Preparations

**Chapter Nine: Plans and Preparations **

"I don't understand," Luke said, frowning at Anakin. "Why don't you want us along? You keep saying our Force skills are improving in leaps and bounds – what's wrong?"

Anakin sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes as if attempting to ward off a headache. "I know you can look after yourself, son, and and I know Leia can, too. I do. I'm incredibly proud of you both, Luke, don't misunderstand me. However, you are my children, and every instinct I possess is screaming at me not to put in in danger."

Luke crossed his arms. "But it is perfectly fine for us to sit safely here and worry ourselves to the point of insanity while you put yourself in harm's way?"

His father's mouth twisting apologetically. "Harm's way doesn't really bother me." He rose to his feet. "There is no point in arguing about this, son. You are coming whether I like it or not. I've called a meeting; let's go before we're late."

* * *

Leia and Han sat on one side of the long conference table; Jix and Piett stared back at them from the other side. Nobody said a word. 

"Do you have any idea what this is about?" Piett finally asked.

Leia shook her head, her gaze fastened on the table top.

Jix rolled his shoulders restlessly. "Uncle D will explain," he said, glancing irritably at the door. "When he decides to grace us with his presence."

"He will be here," Piett assured him. "We're actually a little early."

"I _know_," Jix retorted, rolling his eyes. "I said _when_, not _if_."

Anakin chose that moment to sail through the door, Luke at his heels. He walked to the head of the table. "Jixton, play nice," he ordered. "Piett, stop telling him what he already knows."

"Yes, sir," Piett replied. Jix stayed silent.

"This mission," Anakin explained, "will take us into the heart of Solaria, an Imperial stronghold. It has been discovered that a man is being held prisoner there, by the name of Nicas Mowgua."

Leia gasped. "He's alive?"

Anakin nodded. "Mowgua is a prominent Rebel leader who has been thought dead for the last five or six years. With the Empire falling about his ears, the local governor isn't going to keep him alive much longer."

"I'm guessing our job is to bust him out?" Han commented.

"You guess correctly." Anakin leaned toward them, palms flat on the table, meeting each pair of eyes with his own intense, bright blue stare. "This is a very delicate mission," he said quietly. "I need to know that I can trust you to follow my orders to the letter, with no memory lapses or reinterpretations."

"Of course," Jix and Piett said instantly.

Anakin turned his unsettling gaze on Luke, Han and Leia.

Luke gave in first, knowing how much it meant to his father that he and Leia in particular made this vow. "I will."

"So will I," Leia agreed reluctantly.

Han held out a little longer, but even his stubborn will was no match for that of the Chosen One. "Oh, alright," he finally huffed.

Anakin straightened. "Good. Captain Solo, prepare your ship. Every Imperial knows the _Millennium Falcon._ She'll make a good distraction."

"But --" Han began to object, but the Jedi's frown silenced him, and he had been silenced by enough of the best to know a good leader when he saw one. Anakin's eyes looked cool as ice when he didn't like an answer, and he _really_ didn't like Han's. The smuggler recognized the incredible quality that marked an excellent leader in the Jedi – he had the ability to get people to follow him.

To the utter astonishment of the twins, Han dropped his gaze in deference. "She'll be ready," he said.

Anakin nodded to them all and swept back out the door.

* * *

Luke, Leia and Anakin stood in front of the lightsaber cabinet, attempting to divide the three other weapons. 

Anakin had learned from experience to always have an extra lightsaber close by, and his children agreed that it was a good idea. The problem was that, although they didn't express the sentiment, none of them wanted to carry a red blade, even as a secondary weapon.

"Leia and I will take the red ones," Luke said valiantly, ignoring the furtive but alarmed look his sister shot him.

Anakin growled under his breath. "This is absurd. _I_ will take a red one." He took the one Luke had found aboard the _Executor._ "I used a red blade for twenty-three years, I can use one now." He strode out of the room.

Leia stared after him. "Is it just me, or has he become rather waspish lately?"

Luke nodded in agreement. "Han said something the other day – tried to joke about Vader. I think it cut deeper than he wants anyone to know, so he's bottling it up inside."

"Which isn't good at all," Leia concluded, worried. Then she grew angry. "Stupid nerfherder. And he won't apologize; he'll pretend that nothing is wrong and hope that the problem will go away."

"You're going to have to cure him of that if you plan to marry him."

"I will," Leia said grimly. "One way or another."

Luke handed her Obi-Wan's lightsaber, clipping the other red one to his own belt to hand beside his green one. "That's the spirit."

* * *

Anakin lay on his bed, staring at the ceiling. 

He felt like he was going to explode. He recognized the feeling as a bad one – he had felt it before he had avenged his mother, before he had turned to the Dark Side, before he had cut off Luke's hand, and before he had brought Luke to see Sidious.

He wondered what mistake he'd have to make to rid himself of it this time.

He shut his eyes tightly, as if that simple action could shut out the world as well as the light.

Maybe if he addressed what was bothering him, he could dispel his stress in a calm and controlled manner, without harm to anyone.

Anakin mulled that idea over. It was worth a try.

Alright. So what was bothering him?

He had first felt the strain after Solo's remark about his time as Vader. It was quite clear to Anakin that Solo had not forgiven Anakin for Vader's actions, no matter how much he liked and respected Anakin as a person. The thought of being condemned for the rest of his life did not sit well. It was one thing to torture himself with the past; to constantly have it thrown in his face when he was least expecting it by someone he hoped to consider a friend one day was another matter entirely.

Then there was Leia. She had accepted him as her mentor – she had even called him Master the other day. However, she was still blatantly ignoring their relationship. As much as he wanted to give her as much space and time as she needed, he yearned to build a bond with her resembling the one he had with Luke. He didn't want to alienate her, but he was tired of tiptoeing around the issue.

Luke. The boy was one of his most ardent supporters, and Anakin cherished the closeness they shared, but there were times Luke came perilously close to a sort of hero worship – when he watched Anakin fly with the Rogues, or duel against a droid. Maneuvers and moves Anakin considered to be just a bit of fun were idolized by his son. Anakin realized Luke had had no opportunity to observe a Jedi in their prime, but it still felt like Luke had placed him on a pedestal he could not get down from without hurting his son deeply.

Piett and the _Executor_ crew had expectations, too. They wanted him to be the commander they knew, save for the body count, and Anakin was having a hard time adding a Jedi's morals and ethics to a Sith's plans and tactics. He had managed so far, but it was just another thing to worry about.

Mon Mothma and General Rieekan were pretty good, most of the time. They were polite and accepting to his face, and they acted as if they trusted him. However, when they thought he wasn't paying attention, he could sense their fear and doubt, which only multiplied his own anxiety and he fretted all the more; he respected them and didn't want to fail them, yet he already had, long before he had even met them – he couldn't forget it, either. They appreciated his help in rebuilding the Republic, but the fact remained that it was his fault it needed rebuilding in the first place.

The rest of the Alliance did not know he had once worn the black armour and name of Darth Vader. Their trust and acceptance of him was reminiscent of Luke's hero worship – to them, he was _Anakin Skywalker,_ the Hero With No Fear, Jedi Knight extaordinare, the best pilot _ever,_ the Chosen One . . . the list went on and on. It was hard for Anakin to pretend the past never happened, and strained him further to laugh and joke with the friends he had make among the pilots, especially when they brought up "that bastard, Vader. Good riddance he's dead, I say."

Really, it was no wonder he was unable to let his past go. It was being thrown in his face everywhere he turned.

Except when he was with Jix. The former soldier had been able to read Vader like a book, accurately guessing the reasoning behind almost every action. Jix knew the person behind both Vader and Anakin's faces, and he didn't judge him, or expect things from him, or wish he would act like someone he wasn't. For that, Anakin was grateful.

_Speak of the devil, _Anakin thought as Jix stuck his head through the doorway.

"Hey, Uncle D? The Solo kid wants to know when you plan to leave."

"Tomorrow morning," Anakin replied, not even bothering to open his eyes.

"What time?"

"After I've woken up, showered and eaten."

Jix calculated in his head. "Oh, so about an hour after noon."

He knew Anakin's preferred sleeping patterns far to well. Anakin chucked a pillow at him for being insubordinate enough to use the knowledge against him. Jix ducked out of the room, laughing. Anakin recalled the pillow with the Force, a small smile on his own face.


	10. The Third Mission

**Chapter Ten: The Third Mission**

Luke, Leia and Jix sat around a table in one of the _Falcon_'s holds, each nursing a cup of caf as they hurtled through hyperspace. With Han and Piett in the cockpit and Anakin and Chewbacca (whom Anakin insisted come along) in the back making sure the hyperdrive would hold up throughout the course of the mission, Luke decided to take advantage of the situation and ask a question that had been bothering him of late.

"Jix, you know Father pretty well, right?"

Jix shrugged. "Better than most."

"Do you know why he turned to the Dark Side?"

Using all her self-control to avoid choking on the sip of caf she had just taken, Leia glared at her brother. He was supposed to warn her before he said things like that out of the blue!

Looking uneasy, Jix replied, "Shouldn't you be asking him about that?"

Luke frowned into his mug. "He won't say, and . . . I don't want to push."

Jix sighed. "I don't know what happened, but he said something to me once . . . _'Love is horrible. It's temperamental and demanding. it's tiring. It uses you, and it changes its mind. But hatred, now. That's something you can use; you can sculpt, and wield it to carry out your will. Love humiliates you, but hatred cradles you. It's so soothing.'" _Jix paused. "I've never forgotten that. It made him seem more human, somehow. That was when I realized that his life probably hadn't consisted of many buttercups and daisies."

"Something must have happened between him and Mother," Luke mused, recalling the nightmare he'd picked up from Anakin, the one he'd told Han about.

"He was close to Obi-Wan, too, and we know how that turned out." Leia sighed and swirled the dregs of her caf. "To give up on love so completely . . . that's terrible."

The door swung open. "Speak of the devil," Jix muttered, tossing back the last of his caf as Anakin entered, followed closely by Han and Piett.

"Chewie's bringing us out of hyperspace," Anakin announced. "I want to go over strategy with you."

He sat down. "I've been to this prison numerous times, and the layout makes it unrealistic for all of us to go traipsing through it. I will go alone."

All five of his companions opened their mouths to object, then shut them again without a word, realizing that they'd have better luck persuading a compass to point south, and that trying to stop him outright would be akin to stepping in front of a steamroller.

A mirthless smile tugged at Anakin's lips. "I want you to stay by the ship and distract as many people as you can. If I tell you to take off, do so. Don't worry about me; I'll hijack a TIE or something. If that happens, meet me on Vjun in the next system. TIEs aren't built for hyperspace."

They agreed, but hey didn't like it. They knew, however, that Anakin wouldn't care if they liked it, as long as they followed his orders.

* * *

When they touched down, Chewie staying the cockpit to prepare for a quick getaway, the six humans disembarked. Anakin sank into the shadows of the prison building as Han distracted as many stormtroopers and other officials as he could with a boisterous yell. 

It was painfully easy to enter the prison. Not the brightest of beings, all the stormtroopers had vacated the building to go deal with the five other humans who were kicking up such a fuss. It never occurred to them that there may be someone sneaking in quite literally behind their backs.

Then he walked into what felt like a black hole in the middle of the brightly lit hallway. He reached for the Force – and it wasn't there.

_Ysalamiri,_ the part of his mind he managed to keep from panicking whispered.

_Oh, shit!_ a much larger part screamed.

"Skywalker?" a feminine voice queried, breaking through to him.

He searched the cells to his right. It wasn't hard to find her – the black-haired woman stood right at the bars of the old-fashioned cell, her eyes fixed on him. He walked over.

"Who are you and what are you doing here?" he asked, taking note of her four companions before turning his attention to the lock.

"Olee Starstone," she replied. "We're Jedi who escaped Order 66. We've been separated for most of that time, but we finally decided to get together a few months ago. And they caught us. They were waiting for Vader to come and deal with us, but now that rumour has it that he's dead, they don't know what to do."

"Well, I'm not Vader anymore, so how about I help you out instead of _dealing_ with you?" he murmured, mostly to himself as he activated his lightsaber and destroyed the lock.

Only Starstone heard him. "_Anymore_?" she hissed in shock as the door swung open.

He ignored her and pointed in the direction he had come. "If you go that way you will find a wall of stormtroopers. If you can get past them, there is a group of Rebels whom I'm sure will help you out."

They collected their lightsabers from a small table drawer across the hall (_Stupid stormtroopers . . ._) and Starstone's four companions thanked him and set off in the direction he indicated. Starstone herself stayed by his side.

"Were you really Vader?" she asked, her tone bordering on accusing.

"Yes," Anakin replied calmly, holding back a sigh. He activated his comlink. "Solo, you have four refugee Jedi coming at you. When they get there, take off before all hell breaks loose."

"Before?" Han yelled back. "A little late for _before,_ don't you think?"

"You haven't seen anything yet. Now move, Solo!"

"You heard Uncle D!" Jix's voice came over the comm from the background. "On the ship!"

"Vjun?" Han asked.

"Vjun," Anakin confirmed, and ended the connection. "You're coming with me?" he asked Starstone. She nodded firmly. "Then let's move on. That ysalamiri they put in with you is driving me crazy."

Once outside the ysalamiri's area of influence, Anakin rolled his shoulders and reached for the soothing presence of the Force, which flowed easily to him once again. He sighed happily. "Alright, now to find that Rebel."

As they searched, Anakin commented to Starstone, "You know, I remember you. You were that bratty little Padawan who attacked my on Kashyyyk, weren't you?"

She glared, but nodded. They continued their search in silence.

Soon, Starstone snagged his sleeve. "This him?" she asked.

Anakin glanced in the cell. "Probably, since it's the only occupied cell besides your we've come across. Nicas Mowgua?" he called.

The man lifted his head. Anakin cut down the door. "Can you walk?" he asked the prisoner.

"Yes," the man rasped, and struggled to his feet.

"Hangar bay?" Anakin asked Starstone.

She pointed. "That way . . . I think."

They were nearly to a ship when the stormtroopers arrived.

Mowgua cowered behind Anakin and Starstone as the Jedi deflected the numerous blaster blots. Starstone swore as a bolt hit the hilt of her lightsaber, taking out the on/off switch and rendering the blade useless as the blue energy faded out. Anakin handed her his, and ignited the red one he carried for himself.

Starstone winced when she saw it, but kept fighting at his side. Mowgua, however, shrieked, "Sith!" and took off across the hangar bay.

Anakin swore again and followed, trying to protect both of them, but it was no use. A bolt went through Mowgua's forehead, and he crumpled to the ground.

Anakin turned to head back to Starstone's side (or at least a ship or wall, to protect his back) but he was surrounded. _Damn!_

It took a good half hour, but Starstone managed to commandeer a ship. Picking up a weary Anakin on her way, she blasted out of the prison and into space.

"Good job," Anakin commented as she entered the coordinates into the autopilot.

"You said Vjun, right?"

"Yes." His voice, coming from behind her, was hardly more than a whisper. He sounded as exhausted as she felt.

"So." She paused. "Can you tell me about Vader?"

No answer.

"I can understand why you don't want to talk about it," she continued, staring out the windshield at the stars, "but I'd really like to know. What could the Order have done as a whole to make you turn against and kill them all like that?"

Still no answer.

"Anakin?" She frowned at his silence and turned to look at him.

Only them did she realize her mistake.

What she had taken for exhaustion was not exhaustion at all.

Oh no.

She watched in horror as the hole in the center of his chest bled sluggishly, mostly cauterized but still staining his black Jedi robes enough to give them a sinister crimson sheen. He had been shot from behind, Starstone realized, and the bolt had gone clean through.

Slumped in a passenger seat, blue eyes closed, Anakin made no move to clean or cover the wound..

He made no move at all.


	11. A Time To Love

**Chapter Eleven: A Time To Love**

Anakin was a Jedi. An exceptionally good one. He could take care of himself.

Luke knew this, but he still found himself worrying about him. Even knowing he was with another Jedi who could watch his back did nothing to ease Luke's fears.

"He should have been here by now," Luke muttered to Leia, agitated.

"They'll be here, Luke. Just be patient," Leia replied soothingly, but she was worried, too. He could see it in her troubled brown eyes.

He began to pace. "Something's wrong. He doesn't answer when I call."

It took her a moment to recall the strong bond her father and brother shared. "Maybe he's busy."

Luke stopped. "He_ always _answers. No matter what. He'd at least sent a feeling of acknowledgment." He stared off in into the distance as he repeated, "He _always_ answers."

He turned his head, eyes boring into hers. "The last time he didn't answer," he said, his voice so low she had to strain to hear him, "was when he died."

* * *

At long, long last, an Imperial shuttle appeared in the distance, skimming Vjun's surface in a search pattern. Luke and Leia rushed out of the _Falcon_, the four older Jedi on their heels, deaf to Han and Chewie's words of caution. Their not-quite-frantic waving brought the ship to the ground, and they had mobbed it before it had settled. 

A black-haired woman was waiting just inside the door. She fell into the arms of her comrades, but her face was carefully blank. Luke and Leia made to push past her, but she grabbed their hands and, without saying a word, led them to Anakin's side.

Leia cried out at the sight of Anakin's prone form; Luke went white. The twins dropped to their knees at their father's side as Starstone called for a medical team. They begged and pleaded for him to wake up, but Anakin's breathing only grew even shallower and more erratic.

When the paramedics finally arrived and took Anakin to the med bay, Leia and Luke stayed where they were, unable to believe that the greatest warrior of them all had finally fallen.

Leia was the first to break down. She buried her face in Luke's shoulder, the tears that were streaming down her cheeks soaking through his shirt to land hotly on his skin. He held her close as her petite form shook. "I never told him that I loved him," she sobbed.

* * *

The medical team worked for hours, but they were only local healers, without the knowledge or technology to deal well with such severe wounds. Anakin's prognosis was not good, even with the healing trance the Jedi had managed to place him in. 

"You must seriously consider putting him out of his misery," the medic insisted to Han, his back to Luke and Leia, who were sitting worriedly at Anakin's bedside. Han, however, had a clear view of the devastated twins.

"That's not an option," Han snapped tightly.

"He'll die in a few hours, anyway; it's a miracle he's lasted this long. You're only prolonging the inevitable," the medic pressed.

"I said it's not an option. Surely there's a more competent doctor around here than you," Han bit out.

The medic's lips thinned. "Take him up to Bast," he advised, anger clipping his voice. "_If_ he survives the journey, Lord Vader's physician can tell you the same thing I have." He brushed past Han, his nose in the air, and left the makeshift medical bay.

A cold, heavy weight settled in Han's gut. His entire body rebelled against the thought of marching into Darth Vader's private residence, but a glance at his stricken princess and her brother gave him no choice. "Bast," he muttered, and left to find Chewie and the Jedi.

* * *

"Bast?" Luke said incredulously. "Han, they'll shoot us on sight!" 

"Relax, kid," Han said, though he didn't feel any better about the whole affair than Luke did. "We'll just keep your old man in plain sight. He's their boss, they'll let him in."

"They won't even recognize him without the suit," Luke argued. "He came here a few months ago; he had to use a secret door and multiple applications of the Force to get in and out alive!"

Several swearwords ran through Han's head, but all he said was, "Just trust me on this one."

"I hate it when you say that, Han," Luke replied, his brow furrowed with worry. "I really do."

* * *

They skimmed Vjun's surface for two hours before stopping at Bast Castle. Han set the _Falcon_ down in a small grove of trees, and it was quickly agreed that Chewie would stay with the ship. Han, Luke, and Leia would accompany Anakin to Bast. 

They fretted the whole way to Bast's outer wall, guiding the anti-grav stretcher bearing Anakin between them. After what seemed like a millennium, they were close enough to make out the sentries, the guards posted at the bridge, and the pretty young maid bringing them rations to sustain them until the end of their watch.

And they were close enough for the sentries to see them.

A cry echoed through the deepening twilight. And suddenly all weapons present were aimed at Han and the Skywalkers. "You there! Halt and state your business!"

Eying the blaster rifles, Han called back, "Look, we've got an injured Darth Vader here --"

A roar of fury rippled among the men. "You lie!" the leader snarled. "That pitiful creature is as far from my lord as it is possible to get!" He gestured at his men. "Shoot --"

"Wait!"

All the Imperials turned to look at the maid with surprise, but she was too busy staring at Luke to notice. "You. You're Lord Vader's son, aren't you?"

The sentries recoiled, horrified that they had nearly shot their lord's son. Luke nodded uncertainly.

The maid smiled. "You look like him." The smile faded as she focused on Anakin. "Come inside," she said. "I'll meet you there."

They met no more resistance after that, and true to her word, the maid was waiting for them. "I'm Briar," she introduced herself. She moved to stand by Anakin's side. She studied his face for a moment, then tentatively reached out to brush a couple of stray curls off his forehead. "I caught him breaking in a few months ago," she explained. "He promised he'd be back, but he did say he'd comm first." She tried to smile, but it fell flat.

Turning, she beckoned them to follow her. "Let's get him settled in his room. I've already called for the physician. He'll meet us there."

* * *

The doctor, Polor, was an ordinary looking man who could easily fade into any background he chose. However, he did have a very soothing aura. Luke felt himself relaxing thirty seconds after Polor entered the room, and he wasn't even the patient. 

"What have you done to yourself now, my lord?" Polor murmured as he bent over Anakin's still frame.

At that moment, Jix and Piett burst through the door, breathless. "Uncle D?" Jix gasped, gulping air.

"Don't worry, I've brought him back from worse," Polor assured him. Luke could hardly believe that, but he let the physician work. Instead he turned his attention to Jix and Piett. He'd been so worried about Anakin he hadn't even noticed they were not with the rest of the group.

"We hotwired an Imperial fighter," Piett explained, answering Luke's silent question.

"Yeah, Solo's bucket of bolts was full, what with those Jedi and all," Jix added.

Han glared at the insult to the _Falcon_ and asked, "So where have you been? It's been hours."

"Here," Jix replied. "When Uncle D said we'd meet on Vjun, he didn't mean out in the middle of nowhere, you know."

He took in their blank faces. "Apparently you _didn't_ know," he said under his breath.

Piett took over. "We were asleep in Jix's suite for the longest time. The commotion over your arrival woke us up, and when we heard what had happened, we came as fast as we could."

"Polor can fix him," Jix said with assurance. "He's even brought him back from a lightsaber wound to the gut, right, Polor?"

The doctor nodded absently, concentrating on his task.

Han was staring at Jix as if he'd suddenly sprouted a second head. "You have a suite _here_?"

"Vader's off-the-record right-hand man, remember?" Jix reminded him. "He couldn't leave me out in the cold, but he couldn't exactly put me up in 500 Republica, either. So he let me live here. I've got my own landing pad and everything."

Han's eyes narrowed. "So you didn't have to risk getting your head blown off trying to get in here."

Jix snorted. "Of course not. How utterly ridiculous."

"Indeed," Han gritted out.

* * *

When he was finished, Polor shooed them all out so that Anakin could rest and heal in peace. They trooped back to Jix's suite to await news of the consciousness Polor had promised Anakin would regain soon. 

In five minutes, they were all fast asleep.

* * *

Leia wasn't sure how long she slept, but no one else was awake yet. She left the room soundlessly, meaning to wander aimlessly around the castle in hopes of relaxing enough to get back to sleep, but her feet carried her straight to Anakin's bedside. 

His breathing was deep and steady again, and his face was once again coloured healthily. Sleep eased the lines around his eyes and mouth and smoothed his forehead peacefully. He slept innocently, like a child, and in the darkness he looked younger than she was.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open, staring straight into her own. She jumped at the unexpected movement.

"Sorry," he whispered, his voice hoarse. He tried to sit up and winced. Suddenly angry, Leia pushed him back down firmly, almost roughly, and sprang to her feet.

"How could you?" she cried, not exactly sure why she was upset. "You know how much I – we need you! You can't just go around throwing yourself in front of blaster bolts!"

"It's not something I do intentionally," he replied, watching her pace. "It's an occupational hazard, one I accepted long ago. I'm not invincible, Leia."

She stopped pacing and turned to face him, looking ready to collapse. "You should be." She lay on the bed beside him, her head resting on his chest, careful not to jar his wound. "I'm not ready for you to die."

"_You're not all-powerful, Ani."_

"_Well, I should be!"_

Anakin shoved the memory aside and held his daughter close, stroke her back soothingly as she sobbed her anger and worry away.

Finally she sighed, exhausted by her own tears. Her hand curled around the folds of his shirt, like a toddler clinging to her father as he carried her. "I love you, Daddy," she told him drowsily. "I almost missed my chance to tell you, and I really want you to know."

"I know, angel," he said, blinking back tears of his own. _She called me Daddy._ "And I love you, too."

Still cuddled together, they fell asleep again.

* * *

"Is this everything, Lord Vader?" Briar asked a few days later. Anakin was finally well enough to travel, and it was time for them to return to the Alliance. 

"Yes, thank you," Anakin replied, moving around to check the engine of the ship they were preparing, a Nubian transport from his personal collection.

Leia followed him. In accepting him and his past as part of her heritage, she could now talk about his history much more candidly. "Why don't you ask them to call you Anakin, or Commander, or – _something_."

He studied the motor and replied, "They're comfortable calling me Vader."

"But you aren't Vader anymore."

Anakin sighed and leaned against the side of the ship, facing his daughter. "Leia, you can call it a different name if you want, but I _am_ Vader. He _is _me. He's not dead, angel; he never will be. He's just under control now. I have been getting angry since the day I was born and I will continue to get angry until the day I die." He paused, then kept going. "Vader's existence was one of sorrow, self-hate, and anger at fate for doing this to me. It's not a time of my life that I'm proud of, but I feel that by saying Vader doesn't exist I'm ignoring the past. And that is the greatest disservice I could ever do to all the lives Vader – _I_ – affected."

She nodded slowly. "I can understand that. It does make sense, in a way."

Anakin grinned, trying to lighten the mood. "Glad you approve, angel. Now get over here and give your old man a hand."

* * *

Chewie grabbed Anakin in an enthusiastic hug and howled at him. Anakin grinned. 

"I'm too stubborn to die," he told the Wookiee. "Too damn obstinate to get myself killed properly."

"That's perfectly alright," Luke informed him, his eyes still bright with relief over his father's good health. "I'd like to have you around awhile yet." Chewie agreed empathetically.

Still smiling, Anakin commed Olee Starstone, travelling with her friends aboard the Nubian starship. "All set?" he asked.

"On your mark, Master Skywalker," she replied cheerfully. She and her comrades had agreed to be the first Jedi of the New Order, and when Starstone had hinted that the son of Anakin's friend Nejaa was still alive, he had made a mental note to look for the boy -- well, man now, he supposed. He was older than Luke and Leia.

"Great." Anakin nodded at Han. "Let's go home."


	12. New Beginnings

**Chapter Twelve: New Beginnings**

Anakin sat in the cockpit of his starfighter, using binoculars to study the man his daughter was greeting.

A year had passed since his near-fatal injury, and he had since returned to Bast castle five tumes in an attempt to turn the castle into a nice, comfortable place to live. Briar had been promoted to housekeeper after his old one died of old age three months ago, and she was doing an excellent job keeping the castle in order.

Anakin had successful located Corran Horn, son of Nejaa Halcyon, seven months ago. He and Luke had become fast friends, and he had readily agreed to train as a Jedi at the newly restored Jedi temple on Coruscant, along with fifty younglings who had chosen themselves to become Jedi.

A stable Republican government was once again in place in the galaxy. The treaty with Jurn had been dealt with by non-Force-sensitive politicians; the master code of Coruscant had proved vital in reinstating the government.

Now, Anakin had other, more personal problems. Like his daughter's love life.

Prince Isolder of Somewhere-Or-Other (Anakin couldn't be bothered to remember exactly where) did not impress him in the least. He hoped Leia was not seriously considered the Prince's proposal of marriage. If she was, well, he'd just have to scare him off with the overbearing, overprotective, evil-eyed, lightsaber-swinging Jedi father routine, no matter how viciously Leia threatened to draw and quarter him.

Once Leia and Isolder had exited the docking bay, Anakin hopped out of his starfighter and went to find Luke to get his opinion on the Prince.

* * *

"Look, just tell her how you feel," Luke instructed Han. 

"But what if she says no?" Han replied fearfully.

"She won't."

"But what if she does?"

"She _won't_."

"But --"

"Then she'll marry the Prince!" Luke snapped, his patience evaporating. "Just like she will if you don't ask at all!"

Han glared, but he picked himself up and headed out to find Leia.

* * *

Han ran into Anakin on his way up the stairs, nearly bowling the Jedi Master over. "Anakin!" he he gasped as they gripped each other's arms in an effort to regain their balance. "I uh, I kind of, I mean, you know, me and Leia, we, uh, well, I want to --" 

"Han, shut up before you hurt yourself," Anakin interrupted, a smile creeping across his face. "Yes, you can marry my daughter."

Han nearly fainted in relief. "Thank you, sir!" He dashed off to find Leia before she could give Isolder an answer.

* * *

_Six months later:_

Han stood with Luke, who was officiating their ceremony, on the balcony of the lake house on Naboo, where Leia's parents had gotten married years before. He watched as Anakin and Leia, arm-in-arm, walked toward him. Leia was a vision in the white gown that her mother had worn at her wedding, and Anakin was looking very proud. He caught Han's eye and winked.

Han remembered clearly the conversation he'd had with Leia right after Anakin had given him his blessing to marry her.

"_Well, I – I asked, uh, IaskedyourdadifIcouldmarryyou."_

_She blinked those gorgeous brown eyes at him. "What?"_

_He took a breath. "Your dad gave us his blessing. I – I asked him if I could marry you."_

"_Really?"_

"_Yes. He said yes. It was good." Han swallowed his hyperventilation._

_She smiled. "That bad, huh?"_

"_Worse."_

_She shook her head at him fondly. "You were fine asking him to help you upgrade the Falcon's hyperdrive."_

"_I wasn't asking to marry his only daughter then!"_

"_Ah." They were quiet for a few moments, then Leia glanced at him from underneath her lashes. "So . . . is there something you want to ask _me_?"_

"_Are you kidding!" Han yelped. "I haven't recovered from asking _him_ yet!"_

Now, watching her walk toward him, her rosy cheeks fairly glowing, Han was so glad he had gotten the nerve to ask her to marry him soon after that.

It was a small ceremony, and over quickly. "By the power invested in me as an officer of the New Republic," Luke concluded, "I now pronunce you husband and wife."

_A princess and a smuggler, _Anakin thought as he watched his daughter and new son-in-law kiss. _Who would have thought? It's about as likely as a queen and a slave. _He grinned and met his son's gaze over Han and Leia's heads. _I wonder who he'll end up with. Maybe an assassin . . ._

For some odd reason, a picture of Mara Jade, former Emperor's Hand, popped into his head.

**End**


End file.
